Alejandro's Prey
Author: Nikita Slater
Date: 2018-07-20 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Contemporary Romance; Dark; Contemporary; Novella; Crime; Erotica
Description: The rules are simple. Don't talk to the men, don't communicate with the outside, stay loyal to the family. Gina tries to follow the rules, but every time she turns around there's a new rule! It's only a matter of time until she breaks one and becomes… Alejandro's Prey. He's an enforcer, second-in-command to one of South America's leading crime lord's. Rules are his life. He gave her one year - one year to adjust to him and his rules. But his sweet little mouse broke the rules and now she's his. Only someone else wants her, too… Alejandro's Prey is a mafia romance novella. Though this book is p
Publisher: Nikita Slater Writing Services Ltd.

Copyright © 2019 Nikita Slater

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

ISBN: 9781990355189

Contents

Scarred Queen

Book 1

Fucking Obsessed with You

Part I

Broken Head, Broken Heart, Broken Parts

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

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Part II

Rise Up, Mi Reina

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Alejandro’s Prey

Book 1.5

Untitled

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

9 months earlier

Chapter 8

Present day

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

3 weeks later

Chapter 16

Epilogue

Queen’s Move

Book 2

Prologue

Chapter 1

One year later

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Three weeks later

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

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

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Epilogue

Born a Queen

Book 3

Prologue

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

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

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Epilogue

Coming soon…

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About the Author

For all my bad ass queens out there, put on your crown and strut your stuff.

Scarred Queen

Book 1

Contents

Fucking Obsessed with You

Part I

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

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Part II

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Fucking Obsessed with You

Don’t see no colours like you, but you ask me to,

Ask me to see the things you do,

Think the way you do.

Fuck the way I feel, the way I feel for you.

Loyal is everything to you, but you want me too,

You take me too, I ain’t gonna be for you,

Not loyal no more, not if I go.

Fuck the way you do, obsessed with you too.

Why you gotta take, take everything for you,

Push the way you do, take the things for you,

Make me love you too,

Make me do the things you do, feel for you.

Why you gotta make, make me feel things for you,

Can’t hold on to you, make me go,

Make me hate you too,

Push me to go, make me hate you too.

Not strong enough to go, but you gotta push me to,

Make me fuck off, fuck away from you,

Loyal is everything to you, fuck the way I feel,

Make me go, fucking obsessed with you.

Part I

Broken Head, Broken Heart, Broken Parts

1

Ignacio Hernandez had never before brought a woman to a meet. Then, they’d never met at a club before. The entire scene was unprecedented. Reyes didn’t do unprecedented, but he was willing to make an exception because he was curious. He could sever the Miami connection if he had to. It would cause some shockwaves, but it wasn’t out of the question. Ignacio was beginning to annoy him anyway. His poor decisions were beginning to affect the Bolivian. Such as bringing a woman like her to a meet with a man like him. Something that was meant to show off Ignacio’s power and wealth would become a big mistake.

His gaze flickered over the woman, calmly drinking her champagne and orange juice as though she weren’t sitting at a table with four of the most dangerous men on the continental East coast. Two kingpins and their right hands. Only Reyes didn’t think she was as calm as she appeared. Her wrist trembled slightly, giving her away. She had enough presence to make sure that tiny shake ceased by the time it got to her slim fingers where they clenched the crystal of her glass. It wasn’t the fingers or her ability to remain coolly poised while the men around her talked business that captured his curiosity. It was the mark on the back of her delicate hand, permanent slash lines, viciously marring her porcelain skin.

Anger burned deep in his gut, surprising him. Reyes rarely felt anything. Ever. Certainly not for a woman. This was how he made effective decisions. How he moved trade across borders with ease and cool logic. Emotion had been removed from him. First by a ruthless father, then by a vicious military stint in his home country and finally by an unrelenting, merciless prison sentence that had systematically broken him before he had, in turn, broken down the prison itself and owned it from the inside out. By the time he was released it was into a world of his own making; a world shaped by him on the inside and ruled by him on the outside.

Yet the sight of this cool, blond beauty, so broken yet utterly resilient was doing something to him, forcing him to feel. He shifted in his seat, sliding his arm across the back of the leather, his eyes never leaving her while he listened to the other men speak. Negotiate terms. He didn’t need to add his voice. Alejandro, his right hand, knew the terms. Knew not to fuck up while in pursuit of new deals for the boss.

Reyes wanted her. The electrifying anger he felt when his eyes caressed that mark assured him he would take the woman and make her his. Not because it infuriated him that she had been abused. No, he was not a good enough man to care about that. He was under no illusions he would treat her any better than Ignacio. Hell, he’d probably treat her much worse. Because Ignacio undoubtedly set her up like a trophy in his great mausoleum of a house and then ignored the unapproachable beauty.

Reyes had no intention of ignoring her. He was going to take her and fuck every inch of her, just the way he wanted. Hard, brutal, mean. Exactly how he was. Exactly how this world had shaped him. Because he could. She was about to become spoils of war.

No, he wasn’t angry about the mark on her hand at all. He was pissed that the mark was twisted into the shape of an “H” and not an “R.” He wanted her to belong to him, to the King. When he got his hands on the woman, that would be the first thing he changed.

Finally, after nearly an hour of sitting in the booth together, his eyes rarely leaving her face, she lifted hers to meet his uncompromising gaze. And for the first time in his life, he felt his heart stop in his chest. He was unprepared for the impact. Her eyes – one startling green and the other amber brown – were vivid, stunning and unrelenting. Though her expression didn’t flicker once from the blank mask of icy beauty, he saw the burning disdain, the heated fury buried deep within those fiery orbs for the men that surrounded her. She despised all of them.

His lip lifted in an answering sneer. She refused to drop her eyes from his challenge, despite her husband sitting at the same table. He wanted nothing more, in that moment, than to take this scarred Queen from her throne and tame her. He vowed, then and there, that he would eventually have her.

2

Casey Hernandez, the beautiful and untouchable wife of Ignacio Hernandez, did not leave his mind for the next several months as Reyes negotiated trade with her stupid fuck of a husband. He’d left most of the footwork with Alejandro, while he retreated to his compound, deep in the mountainous Altiplano region of Bolivia. Alejandro and several of his most trusted men had been back and forth between the two countries, discussing terms and moving product. Building business in the safest, smartest way possible.

Reyes continued to do what he did best. Manage his kingdom with an iron fist. Though it burned him to leave the woman alone, he’d learned patience over the years through the most brutal of methods. Learned to understand his prey before making a move. Reyes moved to his desk and sat. He reached for a Cohiba, lit it, took a long draw and leaned back in his sturdy leather chair. He rarely smoked or imbibed alcohol, preferring clarity, but indulged once in a while, particularly when agitated. When his rigid control was tested or felt somehow… overly restrictive. His glance flicked to the newest set of prints scattered across his desk. They’d been taken three days ago.

After a moment, he picked one up and allowed his forefinger to brush across her delicate features. In the picture, she was shopping, her long, perfectly manicured fingers skimming carelessly over an exquisite cashmere dress while her empty gaze remained unfocused. Somewhere else entirely, somewhere not in the room she was standing in. Except for her eyes, she looked perfect. Not a hair out of place, her long, tall form packed into a cream-coloured pencil skirt and a pink flowery blouse. Her pale blond hair flowed down her back like a silk waterfall. Reyes grunted and crushed the picture in his fist, tossing it over the top of his immaculate desk.

He was ready to admit that, despite his best efforts, he knew very little about the woman he’d been obsessing over since the moment he set eyes on her six months earlier. He’d had her investigated by no less than three private investigators. He’d had her photographed every time she stepped foot from Hernandez’s garish mansion, which frustratingly, was not often. She appeared to have the markings of exactly what she was; a kept woman. Yet, she was more, an enigma.

She shopped, but she didn’t take enjoyment in her purchases. She picked things out, colours that didn’t even match, handed them to her bodyguard without trying them on, then moved on to the next shop without a backwards glance. She moved like a robot, shopping, not because she wanted to, but because it was expected. She went out for lunch with “friends” once a week on Tuesdays, but she rarely said a word and she never smiled. Her so-called friends were the wives and daughters of local politicians and businessmen. She showed up because she had to, not because she liked the people that she ate with. Anyone could tell from the pictures that she hated those lunches. Other than to shop and eat lunch on Tuesdays, Casey never left the mansion. Reyes wasn’t able to dig anything else up about her, she had no past that he could discover. It was like she’d been buried when she’d taken the Hernandez name.

Reyes didn’t like mysteries and he didn’t like women that eluded him. He was straightforward in business and straightforward when it came to fucking. He wanted both to be quick and efficient with as little mess to his personal life as possible. He knew, without a doubt, if he continued to pursue the growing obsession he felt with the Hernandez woman, that he was in danger of doing something he’d vowed never to do. Creating a mess. A weakness for exploitation.

His mother and siblings had been caught in the crossfire of such a weakness. He’d ended his own father in bloody retaliation, finally taking out a broken man before dismantling his empire and rebuilding from the ground up, better, more brutal and unbreakable. Now he had to decide if he was going to allow this woman to crawl further inside him, burrow her way deeper under his skin. Because something told him if he didn’t do what he knew was right, and put a bullet in her head now, take care of this weakness, he was going to bleed for her. And he didn’t bleed for anyone.

He had less than a week to decide. He was going back to the United States to see the woman and to take care of the Miami connection. It was time to make the power move and set up his own organization with men he trusted at the top. He glanced down at the array of pictures scattered across his desk, his dark eyes moving to one in particular. A close up of her face as she glanced over her shoulder toward the hidden camera. Every time he looked at her, he saw that tiny scar next to her eyebrow. Something about it bothered him. How had she gotten it and why hadn’t his investigators found out a damn thing about her? Why was she such a mystery? And would she survive the coming war long enough to answer his questions?

3

“Boss wants to see you.”

Casey jumped and dropped her concealer stick. It clattered against the top of her makeup table, rolled from the smooth glass surface and onto the carpeted floor. She took a calming breath before turning slightly in her seat and bending over to pick it up. Her long, pale blond waves swished around her shoulders as she reached for the tube, snatching it up. She set it back on top of her vanity and then glanced over her shoulder at the rugged, stocky bodyguard standing in her doorway. He hadn’t knocked to announce his presence. She would have heard and been able to prepare herself for the intrusion of her private sanctuary.

They never knocked. It was like they took deliberate pleasure in walking in on her any time they wanted, interrupting her private moments. So, she made damn sure those moments were few and far between. She locked the washroom door when she was in there and always changed in the closet. When Ignacio’s respect for her had nosedived it was like he’d given his men free reign with their disregard of his wife as well. Perhaps it had bothered her at one time, but she didn’t really remember what that felt like anymore. Now her feelings were more geared toward survival. She didn’t like the way his men watched her. Like a pack of hungry dogs, awaiting the release order from their master. So far, the command hadn’t come; they weren’t allowed to so much as touch a single hair on her head. He still seemed to value her trophy status.

The bodyguard standing in her door wasn’t her usual full-time man. This was one of the relief guys that took over from time to time. She nodded a little and said quietly, “I’ll be out in five minutes.”

He continued to stand, tense and looking at her as though he had no intention of leaving. She turned her head, gave the best impression of haughty she could come up with and repeated, more steel in her voice, “Five minutes. You may go now.”

His eyes narrowed and his shoulders stiffened, but he left, closing the door with some force. Casey sighed in relief and slumped against her vanity for a moment. She now had five minutes to prepare for a meeting with the devil. And she’d pissed off another bodyguard.

She ran a quick brush through her hair and added a little mascara to her pale lashes, then pushed away from her makeup table. She didn’t take too long in her closet choosing an outfit because she knew the bodyguard would be back right on time to collect her for the meeting with Ignacio. She was lucky she was even getting the five minutes she’d insisted on. She snatched a pair of distressed skinny jeans from the shelf and pulled them on underneath her robe. She chose a black bra with little embroidered roses on it, her favourite, and then pulled a soft black knit sweater off a hanger. She added a pair of three inch heeled black boots to complete the outfit. Ignacio hated it when she was taller than him. Not too hard, considering she was already the same height as him at 5’8.”

She hurried out of the closet just as her bedroom door banged open. She lifted her chin in cool defiance and moved toward the door. The bodyguard, whose name she didn’t know, took her arm in a painful hold that told her he wasn’t pleased with her current attitude, and led her out the door.

“A little slower, help,” she muttered as she stumbled to keep up with him, her heels sliding on the marble tiles. His hand tightened on her arm until she flinched. He was going to leave bruises. The man must have a death wish. One word to Ignacio and he’d be toast. She sighed and tried to shrug him off. Too bad she was a better person than that.

He practically flung her down a flight of stairs toward her regular bodyguard, Alonzo, who took a quick step back before he accidentally touched her. He took one look at the hold her temporary bodyguard had on her and stepped threateningly toward the pair. Casey dropped her eyes and turned her head away, not wanting to watch the display of masculine posturing in her own foyer.

Alonzo sent the man a sinister glare and snarled, “Hands off the woman!” He poked a finger in the guy’s chest, then swiftly grabbed a finger from the hand that held Casey’s arm in a brutal hold. Alonzo snapped it so hard that she went stumbling into the wall as soon as she was released. She heard a sharp crack and a pained gasp. She suppressed the sound that threatened to escape her throat and sent her mind to a better place. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen or heard something awful happen in front of her and it wouldn’t be the last. “Never fucking touch the woman. Understand?”

“Yeah, man!” the guy panted, doing everything he could not to drop to his knees in front of the bigger, angrier bodyguard.

“Alonzo,” she mumbled.

“What?” he grunted not bothering to look at her.

“I… I fell on the stairs and he helped me. That’s the only reason he touched me. Please d-don’t tell Ignacio,” she whispered, keeping her eyes averted from the brutal tableau. She edged along the wall toward Ignacio’s study. Though he was the master of these horrible men, he usually kept some semblance of calm around her. Kept the savages at bay. Sometimes, like now, they got out of hand when they were allowed off their leashes. Though if he found out one of them touched her… the consequences would be so much worse. She shuddered in memory of the last time one of them touched her.

“This true?” Alonzo demanded of the man whose hand he was ruthlessly crushing.

She could feel the guy’s gaze on her, but she refused to look at him. She’d done what she could. She didn’t like him, didn’t really want to help him. But she also didn’t think a few bruises was worth the brutality Alonzo was delivering now, or the punishment she knew he might deliver later if she didn’t diffuse the situation. Her bodyguard was extremely efficient at following through on the boss’ orders.

“Yeah man,” the guy wheezed. “I was just helping ‘er. Never touch ‘er again. Promise, man.”

She straightened against the wall, shook her hair back and forced herself to meet the scene head on. She met Alonzo’s gaze with an icy look meant to convey her boredom and disdain. She knew her regular bodyguard understood her better than anyone in the mansion, including her own husband, but acting was all she had to fall back on. She knew it. He knew it. And there were cameras everywhere.

“Can we deal with this later, Alonzo?” she demanded, sending an annoyed glare toward Ignacio’s office. “I have things to do today.”

Alonzo stared back at her for a moment, their eyes clashing in a shared moment of understanding. Alonzo let the man that had dared touch the mistress of the household sweat for a further thirty seconds before releasing him with a shove that sent him sprawling across the marble foyer. Casey held her ground, continuing to watch the scene with cool indifference, though she wanted to turn away in disgust.

“If Mrs. Hernandez says you were only helping her,” Alonzo drawled, “then you were only helping her.” He tilted his head to the side, his dark eyes taking on the dead look she’d unfortunately seen so many times before. Casey dropped her eyes, hoping she wouldn’t have to witness an execution. Fuck, she already had enough trouble sleeping at night. Alonzo pointed a thick finger at the guy, his gold ring, a gift from Ignacio for his years of service, glinting in the light. “Touch her again though, and you die.”

Casey shuddered and turned away, satisfied that they were finished. She strode toward the study door and waited for Alonzo to open it for her. He joined her and reached past her, his hand brushing the bruises of her arms ever-so-slightly. She stepped quickly to the side and glanced swiftly under her lashes at the man that had stood next to her side for the better part of a decade. She didn’t understand him. Sometimes she thought he hated her guts and sometimes… she didn’t think he hated her at all.

Alonzo knocked and waited for Ignacio’s summons before ushering her inside. Casey entered the large, opulent room and took a seat across from the husband she hadn’t seen in a week, not even in passing. Partially because she avoided him like he had herpes, rabies and bird flu all rolled into one. Plus, their schedules differed significantly and Casey lived reclusively, choosing to take most of her meals in her room. Unfortunately, Ignacio would insist on these meetings where she would have no choice but to see him. He was currently on the phone so she waited patiently for him to finish, crossing her legs and folding her hands over her knees.

She allowed her gaze to trail over the expensive, masculine furnishings that outfitted his office, declaring him mafia royalty among those men lucky enough to enter into his exalted presence. She knew better than to let him see the hatred in her eyes as her gaze flowed over the items in loathing. She’d had no hand in the furnishings as a wife might. She cared little for the things he chose to surround himself with. He cared even less for the things she might enjoy.

Ignacio ended his call and Casey felt the physical shift of his focus on her body like an actual touch, though she was the untouchable princess in his elite tower. Her gaze was locked on a statue that he kept on a pedestal a few feet from his desk. It was the horrific depiction of a cherub with a bow and arrow. Casey knew it must have been insanely expensive, but she didn’t understand what else it could possibly have going for it.

Ignacio brought his open palm down heavily on the desk, startling her attention back to him. It had taken years of practice, but her heart no longer sped up in trepidation at his cold, twisted visage. That face. The one that drifted along the edge of her nightmares without ever stopping to feature too closely. Mostly because she didn’t have enough respect left to be truly scared of him. Unlike that clown from IT. Now he was worthy of featuring in a nightmare or two.

Ignacio was twenty-three years older than Casey and she thought he looked every one of those years right now. Not from stress or worry, but from self-satisfied overindulgence. His dark, silver-threaded hair was filled in with surgical plugs and slicked back from his scalp in a sharp widow’s peak. His light grey suit was not well complimented by the awful wide-collared flower-patterned shirt he wore underneath. The entire ensemble would have cost as much as the gaudy desk she was forced to sit across from. She rather thought he should’ve at least looked in a mirror before leaving his bedroom. He tried so hard to look old-school mafia. She didn’t know how all of his associates didn’t just laugh in his face before turning a gun on him. God, how she hated the man with every fibre of her being.

His lips curved in a cool smile of welcome. As though he were happy to see her. Of course, the smile didn’t reach his eyes. It had never reached his eyes, not even in the early days of their marriage. “Casey, my dear. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

She nodded her head, not returning the smile. “Of course,” she said quietly, her hand twitching involuntarily. She clasped her hands together, to stop the tremor before his eyes fell to her lap. As if she had a choice. If Ignacio demanded his wife meet with him then she made time for him, no matter what she was currently doing.

“What are your plans for the week?” he demanded.

His cold eyes roved over her. His look was possessive, but not in a passionate, caring sense. No, he was picking her apart piece by piece. Checking her for faults or flaws. Making sure the merchandise wouldn’t embarrass him. She resisted the urge to shift in her seat, like a child under inspection. She knew exactly what he would see anyway; her appearance was flawless. She wouldn’t have it any other way. If he had no complaints then he wouldn’t have a reason to interview her.

She also knew he didn’t actually care what her plans were for the week. He received a schedule of her calendar every Sunday and it never deviated. Lunch on Tuesdays, shopping on Fridays. She clung to the mansion with stubborn tenacity the rest of the time, like it was some kind of replacement family. She wouldn’t even bother with lunch or shopping except that it was expected.

She forced herself to meet his dark, empty gaze once more and said in a level voice, “I have lunch with Maya Steel, Elvira Montana and the rest on Tuesday and then shopping plans on Friday.”

“Huh,” he grunted, his eyes narrowing.

What exactly did he want from her? Those were her exact plans. She never deviated from them. The only time her schedule changed was when Ignacio changed it up himself. Yet he looked at her as though he thought she might be lying to him. She tried to force her frozen brain to move, to think about what his motivations might be for this meeting. It wasn’t an easy task. She’d learned from her years with him that it was easiest… or best… to just turn her thoughts off and flow in and around his life with robotic ease. He paid less attention to her that way.

Plus, the medications his doctor prescribed for her headaches helped her maintain this sense of fuzziness. They didn’t seem to help much with the pain though, and she’d tried to stop taking them when she was younger and feistier, which hadn’t gone over well with Ignacio. Now the meds were like an ally in her quest for invisibility.

He placed his elbows on his black marble -topped desk and drew his chair in. Folding his fingers in a way that made the light glint off his rings and throw reminders of his position of privilege and power in all directions. Ignacio stared at her with a mixture of undisguised longing and hatred that could easily have equalled her own. That look almost rocked her back in her chair. He usually took pains to mask his every expression, which was probably how he’d managed to avoid a grisly death from his many enemies despite his rampant greed. Ignacio wasn’t completely stupid, much as she wished to imagine otherwise.

Casey was convinced that the only reason she wasn’t dead yet by her husband’s order was because he still wanted her, despite several years of growing impotence on his part. That, and she still held value to him as a figure of beauty. Something to lord over his friends and bodyguards. She didn’t like feeling like a trophy on his arm, a pretty doll that other men could watch, but never touch. She wasn’t allowed to speak when they were out in public together because she didn’t have sufficient control over her words. Perhaps a by-product of her accident, or maybe it was just who she was; Casey didn’t have enough memories left to know for sure, but she rarely controlled the words before they popped out of her mouth and thus often chose silence. Or silence was chosen for her by Ignacio. Thus, she was a kind of broken doll, mute and frozen at his side.

“There’s a man,” he began, his voice drawling the words, while his eyes took in every micro-expression on her face.

Panic threatened to well up and ruin her carefully controlled exterior. If there is one thing she knew to the core of her being, it was that Ignacio expected fidelity. She shook her head and quickly denied, “You know my every move, Ignacio. There’s no man.”

He shook his head and waved his hand impatiently over his desk, indicating she should shut up immediately. She closed her mouth, pressing her lips together and dropping her chin. He’d not had to follow his words with a physical correction in years. She’d learned from a young age what was expected of her.

After a few seconds of silence, he continued. “This man is important… very important, Casey. He’s coming here, to our country to inspect my operations and make sure our association is running smooth. My business here depends on his continued benevolence.” She struggled not to frown down at her lap, to keep her expression smooth. It was very unlike Ignacio to admit that his business might hinge on another person. And since when did he discuss business with her? In front of, yes, because she was invisible to him, but never with. “He seems to have taken a liking to you, my love. My sources tell me he has even discreetly looked into you, tried to find out about your past. Of course, he has found nothing, but I’m of a mind to use this information to my advantage.”

Casey bit her lip to stop the dangerous rush of breath that might give away an emotion. She slowly, steadily stiffened her shoulders and lifted her head to look at her husband. She forced herself to ask the question that she knew could get her killed, either by Ignacio himself or by this mysterious man that would be her husband’s equal, or worse. “And what do you want me to do about this man, Ignacio?”

He smiled coldly across the desk at her. “You will be nice to this man, Casey, and make him happy while he’s in Miami.”

4

She’d had a bad night. Emotionally. Physically.

In every possible way.

She knew what was waiting for her when she opened her eyes. She wanted to be grateful, but fuck them all, she wasn’t. It was their fault she was a pitiful wretch of a human being to begin with; a frail ghost who was too useless to function without an army of prescription pills and vitamins. Speaking of which… she managed to crack an eye open to survey the dim lighting of her bedroom. Oh, thank goodness, the maid had left the blinds closed. Alonzo must have warned her about Casey’s terrible night.

She shifted carefully under the blankets, as much as she dared, and snaked an arm out, reaching for the plastic cup on the table next to her bed. Just as her fingers closed around the smooth surface, slippery with condensation, Alonzo’s voice rumbled from the doorway, interrupting her peace, “Take the meds as well, Mrs. Hernandez.”

Casey flinched and nearly lost her hold on the precious drink. She slapped her other hand over the cup and hauled it into her chest, just barely managing to save her cherry Cola flavoured Slurpee from ultimate doom. She sighed and pulled the blankets further over top of her head, covering both herself and the cup.

“Please, just leave me alone,” she mumbled, propping herself up on an elbow and sipping from the straw. The cool rush of frozen drink soothed the raw pain in her throat from vomiting and crying the night before. She held the cup against her aching head and closed her eyes in pleasure.

“Take the pills, Casey.” Alonzo’s insistent voice came from directly beside the bed. She heard him pick the tablets up off the side table where either he or the maid had left them at Ignacio’s orders. “If you don’t, then I’ll be forced to report to Mr. Hernandez.”

And she would be punished.

Casey stuck her hand out and felt two small pills fall into her palm. She pulled them under the covers with her, but he yanked the blanket abruptly back from her face. Her already tousled hair went flying. She didn’t bother flipping out at him. There wasn’t much point since this was their usual Casey-had-a-bad-night morning after game. She glared at him through red-rimmed eyes, stuck her tongue out and flung the pills in her mouth so he could see her swallow them. Then she took a long pull on her drink.

“Happy?” she asked fake-sweetly.

He grunted in response, turned away from her and began tidying the room. It was a weird chore for him to do considering it definitely wasn’t his job, but occasionally he seemed to enjoy going above and beyond his usual duties. She tilted her head to the side and listened for a moment. Then she shoved the covers to the side and struggled off her big bed with one hand still clutching her Slurpee cup. She ignored the way Alonzo straightened quickly from where he was collecting stray clothes littered across her floor, his eyes averted from the mistress of the mansion.

“I think I’ll go for a swim,” she announced, heading for her closet. “It’ll help wake me up. Please call the kitchen and order a mimosa, Alonzo.”

“But it’s raining outside, Mrs. Hernandez,” he muttered.

“Even better,” Casey replied, slamming the door of her closet behind her.

She appeared like some kind of apparition. One minute he was gazing absently out the patio doors of Ignacio’s office toward the pool, wondering if it ever stopped raining in Miami at this time of year, and the next she appeared. She was by herself, arms down at her sides, shoulders slightly slumped and head bent. She wore a white silk robe that clung wetly to her tall, willowy form as though embracing her like a lover. Something inside him, an invisible pull, desperately wanted to see her face, wanted to know if the same magnetism he felt before was still there.

As though hearing his silent summons her shoulders suddenly jerked back and she lifted her head, those strange eyes turning slowly toward the window. He knew she couldn’t see him through the darkly tinted window panes and she would soon be completely obscured from his sight by the rapidly increasing rainfall. The thought was both unsettling and untenable. Under normal circumstances, if she were his woman, he would have one of his men bring her inside and warmed up.

But there was something wrong with her, this perplexing woman that captured his attention in a way she shouldn’t. Her eyes held a glazed, faraway look in them and she wasn’t shivering as she reached up to gather her hair loosely in one hand, wrap it around her wrist and drag it over her shoulder. She took a few steps forward, but stumbled, nearly falling on her too-high heels. Her bodyguard lunged forward, seeming to come out of nowhere. The hulking giant snapped at her, but didn’t so much as lay a finger on his delicate mistress to aid her.

Reyes frowned, anger and confusion growing as he watched her crouch and place a palm on the stone pool tiles while, what he suspected was, a severe bout of dizziness passed with absolutely no help from the man that was supposed to be her protection. Reyes had to squint now to see what she was doing, his muscles locked against the urge to stalk out the door, sweep her up and cradle her against him. Eventually she picked herself up and made her way slowly to a patio set where she collapsed into a seat with a hand against her head.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?”

Reyes’ lips began to pull back in a snarl and his hand twitched toward his gun, a primal reaction to Ignacio Hernandez coveting what was his. It didn’t matter that she’d belonged to the other man first, that she had, in fact, exchanged vows with the fucker. Reyes saw her and he wanted her, end of story. She would become his. The thought of Ignacio’s hands anywhere near such a perfect creature enraged him to the point of instant, blind homicide. Reduced him to the feral beast he so often unleashed when faced with an enemy.

But he could not attack Hernandez. Not yet. He must remember that he, Reyes, was in control. Not this half Cuban, half American fuck. He needed to remember that he ruled entire regions through calm, cool logic. By maneuvering his enemies into the perfect position for a fall. And then he unleashed his fury. Never before.

Reyes turned to Ignacio with a raised brow and a smirk. “She’s stunning, amigo,” he admitted and nodded toward the pool, now completely obscured by the pouring rain. “You did well for yourself with that one.”

Ignacio’s chest puffed and he reached for a cigar box. Reyes waved the proffered cigar away and forced himself to keep his back to the window. He couldn’t see the object of his fascination now anyway.

“She was promised to me long ago by her family. She was a beautiful child too,” Ignacio told him, his eyes glinting in a disturbing way that made Reyes want to remove his teeth. Slowly, one at a time. “She almost slipped through my fingers… an accident. But it worked out for us, we married just after her eighteenth birthday.”

“You are a lucky man,” Reyes acknowledged with a grunt, remaining deliberately behind Ignacio’s desk next to the big leather chair; the power position. It left the other man standing opposite him, where his minions would usually place themselves. Ignacio shifted uncomfortably, but seemed to shrug it off.

“She could be yours, Señor Reyes,” Ignacio said slyly. “For a time.”

Reyes could feel the vicious pull of his lip sliding back along his incisor in a snarl. He could not contain his disgust this time. He was forced to dip his head as though in thought. His voice was tight when he drawled, “That is very generous of you, Ignacio. Perhaps I will take you up on your offer. After all I am in Miami for a short time only and such a beautiful companion would make me the envy of my men.”

His lips tightened further while disgust flooded his chest. The need to tear out Ignacio’s eyes and slam them down his throat before setting into an earnest bout of torture rode him strong. The other man had just boldly offered Reyes the use of his wife. Hernandez clearly had no instincts for self-preservation or he would have stepped much more carefully around the Bolivian boss.

“I am a generous man,” Ignacio said proudly, puffing away on his cigar, pride blinding him just as much as the smoke curling around his mustached face.

“How generous?” Reyes asked, trying not to growl at the other man. “I don’t want a woman that has been passed around half of Miami, you understand?” Fuck his plan, he was going to murder Ignacio Hernandez with his bare hands in the next five seconds if he didn’t like this answer.

Ignacio looked alarmed for a moment, as though his own plans weren’t quite going the way he wanted. He was quick to reassure. “No, never. She is practically untouched, except for myself, of course.”

“Of course,” Reyes growled, turning from Ignacio. It went against his instincts to turn his back on an enemy, but he couldn’t look at the man without seeing red.

“So, you’ll consider Casey as part of the negotiations?” Ignacio pushed.

Reyes gripped the top of the chair, crushing the leather beneath strong fingers, imagining it was the other man’s trachea. Impudent fuck, he thought to himself. How dare he presume to dictate the terms of our agreement and then use my woman as a bargaining chip. The death of Ignacio Hernandez would be something to be savoured.

“Yes, I believe she will be part of the negotiations,” Reyes murmured, gazing into the pouring rain toward where he knew she sat. Alone and vulnerable.

“But only to use in Miami?” Ignacio was quick to clarify. “Not to take back with you to Bolivia. She is my prize, after all.”

“Of course,” Reyes lied.

5

Casey hadn’t thought about the man in over six months. It took her a second to realize who he was when he suddenly appeared next to her in the pouring rain, on the pool deck, water dripping down his tanned face and running into his collar. She was damp herself, but sitting comfortably underneath her patio umbrella lounge set. Her fearful gaze flickered toward Alonzo, who was standing underneath the overhang of the towel cabana. He didn’t move or indicate in any way that she might be in danger of the man standing arrogantly next to her, as though he had every right to invade her space, so she figured she was safe enough.

She looked back up and forced herself to try to remember him. Her memory was not always the best, not since the car accident that had cracked her skull open ten years ago. Sometimes she had difficulty remembering things, which seemed to annoy people. Her bad memory coupled with her sometimes impulsive words and other little quirks tended to get her in trouble.

“You’re an associate of Ignacio’s.” She finally managed to come up with. “We met at that club several months ago.”

He jerked his head in a short nod and moved to sit across from her at the small table, his eyes never leaving her face. She thought it was a little rude of him to sit without an invitation, but in their world, guys like him were used to doing whatever they wanted. Which Included invading the spaces of women. Sadly, she was used to it by now. The man continued to stare at her as though she were available or something, though he should know by now that she was married.

Now she definitely remembered him, remembered the way his eyes roved over her as the men conducted business in the club. How she’d hated every moment of that meeting. Ignacio had forced her to go as punishment because she’d mouthed off to him earlier in the day, told him she wouldn’t leave the house. He knew she hated leaving the safety of her bedroom.

Casey picked up her mimosa and took a long sip, forcing the tremble in her hand to steady out before placing the glass back on the table. She saw his dark gaze flicker to her drink for a moment and then back to her face with a raised eyebrow, saw the judgment there. He was probably calculating the time, 9:30am. Her own eyes narrowed and she dared him to say something. He didn’t live with Ignacio Hernandez, couldn’t possibly understand what her life was like. What the fuck was he doing in their house for a meeting at that time of morning anyway?

“A little early, eh nena?” he asked, his deep accented voice caressing each syllable.

She stared at him, determined not to give in to the urge to unleash on the man. Strange, she rarely allowed herself to feel anything other than cold dispassion. Especially toward Ignacio’s business associates. Yet, something about this man assuming she was a morning drunk rubbed her the wrong way. Woke something up inside her. And calling her nena? She knew her Spanish well enough to know he was calling her a combination of baby and party girl all rolled into one. An endearment if they’d known each other, but an insult otherwise. She eyed him, completely taking him in for the first time.

He wore his thick, black hair short and spiked up, shaved to the scalp at the sides around his ears and collar. Almost militaristic, except it was a bit too long on top. His features were broad with deep, pitted scars marring enough of his face to make her heart lurch. How had she not noticed that before? The scar next to her eyebrow twitched in sympathy and she resisted the urge to reach up and brush it with a fingertip. She’d erased that particular tell years ago. She forced her eyes to linger on his face, the way his relentless gaze lingered on hers. His high cheekbones, prominent forehead and sculpted lips would have made him quite handsome except the scars and his demeanor gave him an almost feral look. She knew without a doubt that the assumption she’d made about this man six months ago was wrong. He was not an underling or a bodyguard, he was the boss. And he was not to be lightly dismissed.

Finally, she dropped her eyes and went for her drink again. His hand reached across the table, landing on her wrist, stopping her. She jerked in surprise nearly spilling the drink. His skin was warm against hers. Her heart pounded against her chest as she took in the feel of another man’s touch against her flesh. She hadn’t been touched by a person in over a year except the woman that did her hair and nails. And the hapless bodyguard with the now broken fingers. She glanced unsteadily toward the windows of the house, but the downfall of rain obscured anything past a few feet. Even her bodyguard couldn’t see exactly what was taking place on the tabletop from the way they were sitting. His hold wasn’t tight and she knew she could slip her hand away if she wanted. Instead she lifted an eyebrow in question looking at him fully again. Instead of judgement she now saw pity. Her second least favourite emotion.

“Why?” he demanded.

She took a quick breath in, savouring the fleeting touch and then pulled her hand away. Deliberately she picked up her champagne flute, tipped it against her lips and emptied it. The man across from her made an annoyed grunting sound. Her heart responded with an erratic thump. She set the glass back down and pressed her hand against her chest, rubbing a little. She was surprised at how her body reacted so quickly, so readily to the presence of this man.

Then, maybe it wasn’t so surprising. She spent so much time alone, that maybe she was like a sponge, ready to soak up any kind of attention. She turned to him and tilted her head, studying his broad shoulders under the dark shirt he wore, unbuttoned at the top, and the way he sprawled his legs out as though relaxed in her presence. Only she suspected he wasn’t truly relaxed. He seemed to be absorbing everything about her. And he was hyper-aware of her bodyguard. She could tell by the tension in his body, the placement of his hand next to his hip, near his back and the way he relaxed in positon so he could see both her and the man over his shoulder.

“I use it to wake up,” she finally told him, her soft voice carrying to his ears alone. She was ashamed of her substance use, though her bodyguard knew everything about her, right down to her underwear size. It wasn’t like she had any secrets from Alonzo. He was the one that kept secrets from her.

“What do you mean?” he asked, dark eyes cutting to her face, demanding more of an explanation.

Casey blushed. “I… sometimes get bad headaches. I was in a car accident when I was eighteen and there was head trauma. I had surgeries, but there was only so much doctors could do… there was some brain damage… not much! Don’t look at me like that. But now I get migraines and I take prescriptions for my head, only they don’t always work and the pain just gets to be too much, more than I can bear. I can’t sleep because of the pain, but I just want to sleep the pain away.” She knew she was talking too much… she did that sometimes when she was nervous. Started babbling and couldn’t seem to stop. It was why she often chose not to talk, so people wouldn’t get to know this side of her. But he’d asked the question. “Well… sometimes I also take stuff to help me sleep too, pills and… and alcohol together. It helps my head. But when I get up in the morning I feel fuzzy. I guess I just need to de-fuzzify.”

“Fuck…” he murmured, his gaze darkening. He was quiet for a moment before he said, “That’s dangerous shit, Casey. You do this often?”

She wanted to deny it. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she hardly ever did as she’d just described. In fact, she’d never admitted out loud that she took that dangerous combination before. Of course, Alonzo knew, which meant Ignacio also knew. And neither man had put a stop to her drug use, so she assumed they were okay with it. She didn’t know what else to do. She had terrible headaches almost every day that medication barely controlled and Ignacio would only let her see his personal physician. A man who wasn’t a neurologist and not even remotely specialized in migraine therapies. She was forced to manage the pain as best she could. And then there were the prescriptions Ignacio and his doctor forced her to take, for her health.

She bit her lip and nodded.

“How often?” he demanded in a growl.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, shifting in her chair, sitting up straighter. “Why do you care?” she asked suddenly, piecing him with her eyes.

He turned fully toward her, placing his arms on the table and closing the distance between them until the small table felt like no barrier at all. She knew it was significant that his back was to her bodyguard, opening him up to possible attack. In the dark world of mafia, men of his standing just didn’t do that sort of thing. She glanced nervously around them, but they sat in a private cocoon of rain and patio furniture. His thick brows lowered in a frown as he studied her features, taking in her vulnerability, the side of her she tried so hard to hide from the world.

“Fuck if I know,” he told her. “But I want your promise never to do it again. Even if you’re fucking head feels like it’s going to explode right out of your damn skull. You call for help instead. Got me, nena?”

Tears filled her eyes suddenly and she looked away from him so he couldn’t see. It had been so many years since someone had cared enough about her to make such a demand. Anyone that had cared enough had died in a fiery crash on the side of a highway. Just distant, fuzzy memories. People she knew she loved, but couldn’t quite remember.

He reached out and snatched her hand, pressing it hard between his long, brown fingers. She flinched at the intensity of his touch and saw her bodyguard shift uncomfortably out of her periphery. She flicked her wrist, waving Alonzo back, hoping he would stay. He was her husband’s man, after all. She didn’t know what his actual orders were. He subsided though and continued to stare at nothing.

“My name is Reyes. Vow to me you will not harm yourself again, nena. No more sleeping pills, no more mixing pills and drinks.”

A shiver ran through her from head to foot. She forced herself to meet his dark eyes, knowing it was what he was demanding of her. She frowned a little. Though he was highly compelling, she didn’t want to make a promise to a man she barely knew and definitely didn’t trust. “I’ll try… Reyes,” she whispered, his name feeling foreign but good on her tongue.

He let her go, releasing her hand from his warm grip, apparently satisfied with her answer. Wanting to put distance between them, she stood and walked out from under the umbrella and into the rain. Without looking back, she slipped off her heels and robe and dove into the pool. The water enveloped her body in a cool embrace, reminding her once more what it felt like to be alive. This is why she loved swimming so much. She needed the reminders so she wouldn’t slip too far into the shadows. She didn’t watch as he walked away from her, but she felt as though he were taking a piece of her with him. She didn’t know how it was possible. It was like waking up after a lifetime of slumber.

6

“When do we make our move?” Alejandro asked, leaning against the doorframe of Reyes’ Plaza condominium. He’d rented an entire suite for himself and two more for his right hand and the rest of the guys.

“Soon,” Reyes grunted, flicking him a look, daring him to keep talking.

Alejandro was as good as a brother, but some lines were not to be crossed. This one question was the only one that would be allowed. Reyes would set the date and time when he was ready. He knew the guys were talking about his hesitation. So far, the talk had not crossed any lines into dangerous territory or Reyes would have had to deal with his own men. But he knew he would have to act soon, before his hesitation to act swiftly and brutally on the Miami front was perceived as weakness.

He just wasn’t certain yet what to do about the woman. He needed more information and so far, getting that information was harder than getting into a bank vault. His private meeting with her had not gone down as he’d hoped. He thought maybe he would look into her beautiful, vapid face and feel nothing. Expose that feeling of six months ago for the fleeting fraud that it was. Instead, the woman… Casey, had shaken him to the core of his very being with her bald admittances.

“Go,” he said without looking up.

Moments later he heard the door open and close, indicating Alejandro’s exit. He ran a hand over the thick spikes of his hair and then stood to pour himself a drink. His hand hovered over the bourbon as he remembered her pathetic story and he glanced at the clock, 3:00pm. Then he closed his fist over the bottle and strode to the window overlooking the city. A city that would soon belong to him.

He needed to make a decision about the woman. Did he go with his original plan and clean house or did he take the scarred woman for himself? With a growl, he twisted the lid off the bottle and drank deeply, allowing the smooth alcohol to slide down his throat, soothing the questions that burned him with unfamiliar doubt. Unfortunately, it was the uncertainty that burned so heavily in his gut that made her fate become more and more likely.

He was Reyes. He was a king. He couldn’t take a scarred queen from a despotic man and set her up at his side. She was weak and pathetic, a drunken shell of a woman. She wasn’t strong enough. She would fail and she would collapse. He would eventually be forced to put her down if she didn’t find a way to do it herself. He’d found the iron will to clean out his own house. He’d harden his heart and do another man’s house.

Yet, despite this resolve, he found himself tipping the bottle once more, then turning to put on a shirt so he could intercept the woman he had every intention of letting go of with brutal finality. It was Friday.

Shopping day.

“What colour, Alonzo?” she asked absently, handing her silently suffering bodyguard another dress.

Perhaps if she cared enough to examine her motivations she’d question why she tortured Alonzo this way. He never actually hurt her or touched her in any way, unless called upon by the boss to touch. Which was extremely rare. Alonzo didn’t allow so much as a flicker of malevolence to cross his expression when he looked toward her. He was nothing but coldly solicitous of her every want and need unless it conflicted with something Ignacio wanted. Then, Ignacio’s desires came first.

And then it struck her; this was why she needled Alonzo. Because he looked through her instead of at her. Because he’d stood at her side for nearly a decade. Stood at her side during her surgeries after her accident, watched over her during horrific migraines and tried to wake her in the mornings when she’d taken too many pills or too much alcohol. He’d made the panicked call for an ambulance when she’d tried to kill herself three years ago and he’d stood next to her hospital bed, pity finally lighting his expression as Ignacio had ranted at her for daring to try to leave him while she was strapped to a bed, forced to listen to every word.

And still she knew deep in her gut that her “loyal” bodyguard would put a bullet in her if the boss ordered it. Because he was the one that had held her down while Ignacio had burned her hand after her single escape attempt, though she’d screamed and pleaded for mercy, finally passing out in his arms. This was why she played with him, but never crossed the line toward true friendliness. That and she couldn’t bear to get closer to another human, feel that affection and then watch as Ignacio took away something else she cared about.

“Blue, Mrs. Hernandez,” he grunted, doing an excellent job of disguising the annoyance he must be feeling at their weekly sojourn, which included some variation of the same conversation every time.

“Now, would you say it was more of a royal blue or a sky blue?” she asked softly as though she actually cared. She really, really didn’t.

He shifted next to her, barely glancing down at the fabric she was holding before sweeping their surroundings with a thorough check. “Royal.”

“Excellent,” she said brightly, tossing the dress into his arms without looking at the tag.

They both knew she didn’t care about the size, fit or price. That it was hit or miss whether she would ever wear it or whether it would end up in a bag headed for a charity clothing drive. She shopped because it was expected and because it forced her to leave the house. And because if she didn’t dress well, then she was even less useful to Ignacio. They all knew there was only one way out of the life she was in and it wasn’t through a divorce lawyer.

She held another item up and looked it over. “What colour, Alonzo?” she asked.

Before he could answer, a deep voice startled her from behind. “It’s red, nena.”

Casey whirled around, the blouse she was holding up slipping from her grip. Long, dark fingers reached out and snatched it before it could hit the floor. His quick movement brought him a step closer to her. Casey instinctively tried to move back, used to having an entire large bubble of personal space, but the clothing rack to her back stopped her.

Reyes’ eyes never left her as he spoke. “I do not think red is your colour, cariña.”

Another endearment from a man that was almost a stranger.

“I wouldn’t know,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes from his rough, scarred face, but knowing she should. They were in public and Alonzo was a few feet from her watching her every move, listening to every word. Ready and waiting to report back to Ignacio.

“Why wouldn’t you know?” Reyes asked, replacing the blouse on the rack.

Casey forced her brain to follow the conversation and catch up to his meaning, then shrugged. “I’m colour-blind. Red, blue, green… they mean nothing to me,” she told him.

He looked startled for a moment, his face changing from his usual hard, difficult-to-read expression to a sudden softening. She was used to the men in her world never giving anything away in their looks. She’d adopted the same look, emulated it for self-preservation. She knew it saved lives. But she… liked the way he looked at her now when she revealed her latest little quirk. His eyes squinted a little, narrowing in laughter, his lips lifting a little as he huffed out a small chuckle.

“What?” she asked, a small, breathless laugh escaping her throat as well. She couldn’t help herself. He looked different when he laughed and she wanted to join.

He studied her face, the way her bowed lips curved upward in amusement and her pale, pink cheeks flushed as he watched her. “So damn defective, woman.”

Her amusement fled with his words as a slice of pain streaked through her. She touched her chest, pressing her fingertips against her breastbone for a second. She ignored the way he watched her, like a hawk or something. She didn’t need his razor-sharp eyes or his razor-sharp wit taking her down every time she saw him. How had she let this man, a stranger, get close enough to cause pain? Where had her frozen, sleepy life gone? Why was she even telling him these things? Making herself vulnerable to men like him, men used to exploiting weaknesses in others. She dropped her eyes and turned away from him.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she murmured. “Alonzo and I are just finishing up here.”

Reyes stepped around her, blocking her path. She felt Alonzo’s tension thrumming from several feet away, but the bodyguard didn’t step in. She was positive he’d had the same conversation with Ignacio that she’d had. Don’t piss off the Bolivian boss.

“I came to see you, Casey,” Reyes said.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you did. I didn’t think it was a coincidence that you just ran into me in a city this size.”

She felt him stiffen next to her, saw his fingers twitch and realized he had to stop himself from grabbing her. She backed a step away from him. He followed her, his eyes capturing hers and hardening. “Do not roll your eyes at me again, nena. You understand?”

Her heart stopped in her chest and she couldn’t breathe for a second. How could she forget how dangerous these men were? She hadn’t made a mistake like that in many years. She would never have dared to roll her eyes anywhere near Ignacio. She brought a hand up to her mouth and nodded quickly. Fuck, she was going to have to be more careful.

He watched her every reaction, his hard, dark eyes narrowing with understanding. Of course, he knew. She’d been married to the mafia for nearly a decade. She knew what was expected of her. Mob wives didn’t make stupid mistakes that could cause pain, or worse, cost them their lives.

“Come, I’m taking you somewhere else,” he told her.

Casey glanced at Alonzo who jerked his head in a quick nod, giving his permission. Of course. Keep Bolivia happy. Before she could utter a response, Reyes took her arm, touching her for the second time. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steel herself from feeling the warmth of his hand seeping into her skin, the tingle of another body against hers, the rush of blood through her veins clambering to wake up. Her lashes lifted and she met his dark, satisfied gaze. His fingers wrapped more firmly around her and he pulled her tighter against the side of his heavily muscled body as he led her from the shop.

7

Casey laughed out loud, amusement animating her features when Reyes pulled up outside the club. She waited for him to come around to her side of the car and open the door for her. She raised a pale eyebrow at him as he took her arm. “Why are you bringing me here again?” she asked with another laugh. “You didn’t get enough of this tacky place last time we were here?”

“I wanted to have you here again, just you and me. Now we can talk like we should’ve done the first time we met. You’ll class the place up, nena.”

His low chuckle sent a thrill through her body and she turned toward him, helplessly drawn to his power. She was slightly taller than him in her four inch Luis Vuitton heels. Though he wasn’t a massive man in comparison to her bodyguard, he exuded raw Latin masculinity, the type that Ignacio had always tried so hard to express but failed at on every level. She suspected from the lean flexing of his hands and throat that a tough musculature roped his body beneath the tastefully expensive suit that fit him to perfection. Though his clothing and bearing spoke money, he didn’t throw it out in gaudy waves the way her husband did. His clothing, car and jewelry were all tasteful. He wore only one ring on his right middle finger. A thick gold band with an insignia on it.

“I’m not dressed for the club,” Casey said, feeling self-conscious.

He looked her over, taking in her soft black leggings, black heels and the low-cut pink sleeveless silk top she wore with an old comfortable wrap. “You look beautiful,” he told her, taking her arm in a gentle hold and turning her toward the club.

He handed his keys and a generous tip to the valet, took the ticket and led her inside, completely ignoring Alonzo who followed a few feet behind them. She didn’t see Reyes’ men, but suspected they were around somewhere. Heavy hitters like him didn’t wander around an unknown city like Miami without protection though she was certain he could take care of himself. The aura of violence surrounding him was real. Not studied or postured. She knew this man was capable of backing up the threat that his body betrayed with every bunch and tense of his lithe muscles.

With a hand at her back he led her into the club. Casey forced herself to lift her chin and meet the bouncer’s knowing gaze at it slid over her body with familiar ease. She met his look with icy disdain and strode forward at his nod, but stumbled when Reyes caught her arm and pulled her back against his chest. She gasped and rocked on her heels, reaching for the bouncer’s table. Heat seeped through his shirt warming her from behind. He slid a hand around her waist and anchored her back into the cradle of his hips. The back of her shoulder grazed his.

“Why’re you looking at her like that?” he asked the bouncer, his low voice a chilling demand.

Her mouth fell open and she moved her head to the side to look at his face as he spoke. The glare he was giving the giant man blocking the door was enough to convince her she was currently in the hands of a very dangerous man. His dark eyes were flat and merciless, promising pain beyond anything the man who’d insulted her with a single look had ever known. And though Casey knew that deadly look well, having seen it in the eyes of the men that inhabited her world, seeing it on Reyes’ face was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. The fact that it was meant for her, that is was about her, made her both want to run away as fast as she could… and also curl up like a cat and bask in the warm glow of his protection.

The bouncer shifted uncomfortably on his huge feet and slid his gaze away from the pair of them. Casey felt sorry for him. She turned her head further until her lips were only a few inches from Reyes’ face. Her breath rushed across his skin as she spoke. “Ignacio owns this club, Reyes. This man… he recognizes me, that’s all.”

Reyes stiffened against her, his shoulder knocking hers and his fingers flexing into her hip, biting into the flesh over her thin leggings. She shook in his hold and could barely manage to keep her gaze steady as he flicked his eyes from the bouncer to her, sweeping her face with a heated look. The savage possession in that one look was enough to set her dormant body on fire in a way she’d never felt before, but always wondered about. It took her breath away. It frightened her on an instinctual level.

“You don’t need to talk right now, nena,” he told her before turning his attention back to the man at the door. “Now you, friend, will keep your eyes and your thoughts off this woman. I don’t care who she belongs to. I even hear of you disrespecting her again, I will take you apart piece by piece and have my people mail the bloody pieces to your mother. Understand?”

The bouncer jerked his head in a quick nod and stepped out of their path. Hurt rushed through Casey as Reyes ushered her into the darkened interior of the club with Alonzo at their backs. She hated the way Reyes spoke to her, with such careless chauvinism. Yet, she understood it. She had been part of the mob for so long she understood the disrespect that women endured. Or at least she suspected she wasn’t alone. It wasn’t like she got out enough to meet many mob wives.

Casey despised that Reyes treated her the same way her husband would. It sickened her that he could wake something up within her, make her respond to him, then treat her as though her opinion didn’t matter. She stopped walking, digging her heels in and turned on the spot. She brought her hand up to press against his chest so she wouldn’t crash into him. The incredible heat from his body penetrated through the fine fabric of his shirt and warmed her palm.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she mumbled, glancing at the people moving all around them, dancing, eating and drinking. Having a good time in one of Miami’s favourite hotspots. “Please just take me home.”

He took her hand and jerked it away from his chest, pulling her closer to his body. She silently cursed her heels as she once more stumbled against him, her legs giving way against the pull of his unbreakable hold. The breath whooshed out of her lungs and she held her face stiffly back from his so she wouldn’t accidentally brush her lips against him. He looked at her with a mixture of dead eyes and triumph. It made her shiver in his arms.

She could feel Alonzo at her back, seething angrily, unwilling to intervene and mess with Ignacio’s most recent edict, but also taking major issue with his years-long standing order that no man should touch Casey Hernandez. Casey felt a little bad for the man. She was swamped with all kinds of emotions herself. Her body felt like it was coming to life after a decade of sleep. The hard hands that held her were lighting a sort of delicious fire inside of her. Yet, she was horrified that a man like him could do this to her. A man from a world she despised with every frozen fibre of her being.

“I’m not ready to let you go,” he said, his voice a softly accented growl. He turned his head, deliberately brushing his lips against her cheek before wrapping an arm around her waist, holding her tight against his side and leading her to a booth.

Casey shook her head and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was the same booth they’d sat at the first time they met. Clearly, he had a sense of humour. A sick, dark sense of humour. She sighed and slid into the booth, resigned to the idea that she wasn’t leaving until he was ready to let her go. He immediately got the attention of a server and ordered drinks for them. Casey didn’t bother protesting. What was the point?

“Why am I here?” she asked, turning to him as he slid closer to her. “Are you trying to piss my husband off?”

His dark eyes studied her intently as she spoke. Then he ignored her question and reached to touch her face. She jerked in her seat, but he just leaned forward, persisting. He brushed the hair off her forehead and tapped two fingers against the edge of her eyebrow. “How’d you get this?” he asked with a slight frown.

He dropped his hand to her shoulder, cupping her as though he had every right to touch her so casually. Her heart thumped in both anticipation and trepidation at his touch and she had to take several calming breaths. She wasn’t used to being touched so much. If he kept this up she was likely to pass out at his feet from all the gasping and heart stuttering. She had to force her brain to keep up with his words. He wanted to know about her face? Ah… right, the scar.

“A car accident,” she told him. “I have other scars.”

He reached for her lap, picked up her hand and curved it so they could both clearly see the shiny scarred “H” on the back. She shuddered and shook her head. “Not that one, of course.”

He nodded and let her hand drop. “How bad was the accident? When was it?” he demanded. He leaned back in his seat as their drinks were served. She immediately reached for hers, grateful for the respite.

Then she rolled her eyes, careful to conceal the movement under her lashes when she realized her companion had ordered her a straight up orange juice. Twenty-eight years old and she was being treated like a child. She wanted to storm at him and tell him with all of the haughty sophistication of her Tuesday “friends” that she wasn’t an alcoholic as he’d no doubt assumed from their encounter by the pool. She rarely drank unless she was forced to go out to clubs with Ignacio or when she had a bad headache.

“You answer when I talk to you, nena,” he prompted when she took too long.

She turned to look at him, staring at him, showing him some of the loathing she felt for men like him. She felt safer with Alonzo nearby. Surely, despite Ignacio’s orders to keep this man happy, Alonzo wouldn’t allow the Bolivian to harm her in public. Especially in this particular club surrounded by men loyal to her husband. “I don’t like the way you talk to me, nino,” she hissed back at him, insulting him in his own language.

A short bark of laughter burst from between his lips. Then he abruptly cut the laugh off as though he hadn’t meant the sound to escape. He raised an eyebrow and stared at her as though she were insane. Well, she was. The faster he learned it, the faster he might leave her alone. He reached out, too quickly, and brushed the pale blond hair back from her face again. She flinched a little, but held steady when his touch barely registered against her skin. His dark eyes caressed her, warmth searing right through her, piercing the sleepy fog within her body.

She knew he wanted her to see things in his eyes. Knew it, because men like Reyes only let a person see what they wanted a person to see. They might let a man register the lick of anger right before death. Or a woman feel that warm rush of passion before they made love to her body. The rest of the time, their eyes were dead. Reyes wanted her to know the sizzling heat of lust as his eyes touched every part of her that he could see and every part he couldn’t.

“There is the fire I saw that first time you turned those strange eyes on me, cariña,” he murmured, lightly running his fingers across her cheek, over her shoulder and down her arm. “I thought I had imagined the burst of hatred that had so intrigued me.” His hand landed on her thigh and his fingers tightened. Not painful, but almost threatening. “But you will have to learn to answer immediately when I speak to you.”

She looked down at his hand, eyes wide, mouth open in bewilderment. Then she lifted her face to search out her protection. Alonzo stood about ten or so feet back from the table, his own gaze burning holes in the booth and the couple. He was still as a statue, his bulging arms crossed in front of him, his chin down and his eyes narrowed in rage. He was definitely angry enough to tear Casey from the booth and walk her forcibly out of the club, but he didn’t so much as twitch in their direction. He wasn’t going to help her. Once more she was at the mercy of a powerful man, surrounded by people that wouldn’t lift a finger to help.

Reyes tightened his grip on her thigh, forcing her attention back to him. Her eyes jumped to his. He didn’t look angry as she thought he might. As Ignacio would be if he had to teach her how to behave. Instead, Reyes looked as though he truly wanted her to understand. “If I ask you a question, you answer me. When I tell you to do something, you do it. This will keep you safe in my world, understand? Repeat the words, Casey.”

She frowned at him, her brow wrinkling, but she nodded slowly. “You tell me to do something, I do it… for safety. T-to keep me safe,” she whispered her eyes widening and meeting his as the full impact hit her. She felt herself slip past the usual bullshit as she spoke, as he absorbed her words and slowly nodded as if to praise her. What did he mean by that exactly? Was he trying to keep her safe from him or safe in their terrifying mafia world of false friends and sinister business associates.

He moved his hand from her thigh up to her arm, wrapped it around her and then pulled her toward him. She brought her hand up to brace herself against his chest, but she was practically sitting in his lap now, his face almost touching hers when he spoke. She hardly dared to breath, though a tiny whimper escaped her throat when she felt the impossible steel of muscle threading his body. The promise of a human cage if she was ever unlucky enough to be captured by this man so intent on treating her as his prey. He brought his other hand up between them and took hold of her chin, tilting her face until her eyes met his once more.

“And Casey?” he said huskily against her lips.

“Yes?” she whispered.

“Never call me ‘boy’ again. In any language. I don’t care when or where we are, I will bare that beautiful bottom and beat it until you can’t sit down. Understand?” His deep, accented voice vibrated through her entire body, taking her breath away. The dark promise of erotic violence did something to her it shouldn’t have, something she never would have expected.

“I understand,” she whispered. Then she sighed, her breath rushing across his lips in an unconscious invitation. His hands tightened on her arm and chin until she flinched in his hold and he was forced to set her back along the seat in the booth.

He nodded slightly and kept his arm around the top, near her head, as though ready to reach for her if she tried to bolt. Which wasn’t far from the truth. She was exhausted and ready to go home. The anxiety and intensity of her emotions were becoming overwhelming. She didn’t know how much more she could take. She really didn’t understand why Ignacio was allowing this to happen to her. He’d never allowed other men this close before. She understood the need to keep Bolivia happy, but when had keeping a business contact happy meant allowing them to take his wife out to a club?

“Now tell me about the accident,” he demanded.

She shrugged and reached for her orange juice, desperately wishing it was something stronger. She wondered what he would do if she lunged for his drink and downed it before he could stop her. He probably wouldn’t be too impressed and chances were pretty good, he could stop her before she got very far into that course of action.

“I was eighteen,” she told him, tracing the edge of her glass with one light-pink tinted nail. “I don’t remember anything about it at all actually. I was told it happened on the highway when we were driving back from out of state. My entire family died in the accident; two sisters, a brother, my mom and my dad.”

He lifted his hand and touched the tiny scar on her face again before running his hand over the top of her head in a soothing motion. He dropped his arm back behind her. Oddly, she felt relaxed with his arm behind her. As though nothing could happen with him in the booth next to her. She turned her body so she could face him a little better as she spoke about one of the most painful things in her life.

“I… I had to miss the funerals,” she told him quietly. “I was in a medically induced coma for nearly five weeks while I recovered. Th-there was a lot of swelling in my brain so I had to have time to heal. But… waking up to find out that my entire family was gone and that I’d missed the funerals… it was devastating.”

He nodded, not saying anything. Just watching her as she spoke. She so rarely talked to anyone, let alone discussed her family and the car accident, and yet it felt strangely okay to do it here, with Reyes. Like he was safe somehow. Which was utterly ridiculous. He was as far from safe as she could get. She didn’t know what kind of business he had with her husband and she didn’t want to know, but it wouldn’t be anything good. Nothing she wanted to be involved in.

“They shaved a bunch of my hair off and I had staples in my head from here to here,” she pointed at the side of her head, indicating a line across the left side. “There were also a couple of holes in my skull… I guess to relieve the pressure. It was terrifying and very painful whenever the medication started to wear off.”

He nodded again, his jaw tightening a little as he listened to her. “What other injuries did you have?” he asked.

“Except for the cut on my face, none really,” she murmured. “I was very lucky actually.”

He growled incredulously, “You call having your skull cracked open luck?”

“I just mean that my entire family died in that accident and I got away with a few scratches except for the crack on my head. I guess it could have been so much worse for me.” She was startled to find tears stabbing her eyes and she blinked them rapidly away. “I’m grateful for my life. Ignacio was there for me too. He was one of my father’s close friends and he took care of me as soon as I was released from the hospital. He made sure I didn’t have to worry about anything.”

He leaned back and watched her with a brooding expression. She got the feeling he didn’t really know what to do with her. That there was something about her that bothered him and that he was bothered by his reaction to her. It was almost exhilarating for her to sit here with him and to have a real conversation.

“What about the headaches?” he asked, his voice issuing another demand. “They part of the accident?”

She shivered under the dark scrutiny of his penetrating gaze. The way he pinned her to the seat and forced her to talk to him about some of the most personal things in her life. She played with the edge of her wrap, stretching it and running her nail along the fabric before answering him. He wasn’t going to like the answer anyway.

She lifted her shoulder a little in a careless shrug. “I guess.”

“What does that mean?” he asked, his voice taking on an annoyed edge. He picked up his glass and finally took a drink of the amber liquid.

“Well the headaches started right after the car accident so, of course, they must be linked,” she answered quickly. “But I guess it’s impossible to prove. Doctors don’t know enough about migraines to be able to find out if mine are caused by the accident. And there’s no way to stop them anyway.”

His frown turned even darker until she was truly squirming against the seat. “What do you mean ‘doctors don’t know enough’?” he repeated her words in a tight voice. “You see a bunch of head doctors for this problem? They send you to specialists, right? Get it taken care of.”

She didn’t know what to say to him. How much should she tell him? She couldn’t say anything that would make her sound disloyal toward Ignacio, but the truth was, she’d never been allowed to see more than his personal physician since the accident. She had done a lot of reading on the internet about her condition though. “Uh… it’s fine, really,” she said quickly. “There’s not much anyone can do. I take medication to control the symptoms and that seems to help most of the time. Sometimes I still get really bad ones… and I just deal with those as best I can.”

He made an angry sound and slashed his hand through the air. “Yeah, I saw how you dealt with that yourself.”

She looked away from him and said softly, “I told you I’d try not to do that again.”

“And you never lie?” he asked, skepticism clear in his voice.

She looked him in the eye and said, “Never.”

He held her gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment. She refused to break eye contact. She knew it didn’t really mean anything. Anyone could profess to tell the truth and look a person in the eye. It was a stupid myth that people thought they could get away with a lie if they looked a person in the eye. But somehow, when his dark scrutiny swept over her and finally captured her eyes with his, she knew he could discern truth from lie.

“Tell me, nena… for I find I am curious. Why would you bother to match words to actions with me? I am nothing to you. You could tell me one thing and then go home and do quite another. I would never know.” She felt his fingers drop from the back of the booth and ever so lightly touch the soft strands of her hair.

She shivered at the slight contact. She closed her eyes for a moment and resisted the urge to press into the touch. She was a little breathless when she spoke, her voice serious, “I don’t have much, Reyes, but I do have integrity. It’s something I had to teach myself over the years. Every time my husband and his men looked at me and lied, I promised myself that I wouldn’t allow a lie to pass my lips.”

His hand suddenly clenched into a fist behind her head making her flinch and he swiftly glanced around. His voice was a sharp growl when he spoke. “That is a stupid and reckless thing for a woman in your position to say. I hope you are smarter than to speak things like that around Ignacio Hernandez. He doesn’t strike me as a patient man.”

Casey shrugged carelessly and continued to play with the hem of her wrap avoiding his eyes, knowing he was getting a better glimpse inside her head now that he was forcing her to speak to him at length. “Ignacio knows how I feel about him. There’s a reason we don’t spend time with each other and haven’t shared a bedroom in years. Well… we’ve never actually shared a bedroom. He doesn’t like my shoes and girl things invading his space. What I mean is, he knows how much I despise him, so he hasn’t summoned me to share his bed in well over a year.”

Oh shit, she was babbling again, way oversharing. The strained look on his face convinced her to slam her lips shut and seal them.

“Fuck,” Reyes snarled.

He dropped his hand to the back of her neck, wrapping his fingers around the slim column of her throat through her hair. She cried out and brought her hands up to protect herself as he jerked her across the booth toward him. She sprawled in his lap, gasping as her hip grazed the hardness of what could only be his erection. She scrambled against him, trying to push herself back from his chest, but his fingers bit into her arms denying her the space she desperately sought.

Finally, when he refused to allow her an inch and the fight ebbed from her, she allowed herself to lay stiffly across his chest and swallowed the sob that threatened to build up in her throat. A painful throbbing was beginning to pull from behind her eye socket. She wanted to shout at him, ask him why he was doing this to her. Was he truly interested in her? Or was he playing some sick game with Ignacio?

He pulled her steadily closer until she was fully in his lap, her long legs dangling awkwardly, half on the booth and half across his muscular thighs. She wasn’t able to brace herself and was forced to trust him to hold her up against his shoulder and chest. He leaned her in, angling her toward him until his scarred cheek brushed the pale smoothness of her own. She shuddered as the slight stubble of his shaven face scraped against her and the heat from his body warmed her. A whimper escaped her lips and it was on the tip of her tongue to break down and beg him to release her. But before she could speak, his deep voice interrupted her.

“When you come to my bed, cariña, I can promise you…” his warm breath touched her cheek and nose as he spoke and the pleasant smell of him combined with whiskey swamped her already overwhelmed senses, “I will never let you leave.”

The way he said it felt like a promise, not a hope. Like he somehow knew that she would end up in his bed. Vivid images of herself entwined with this man, embracing him in the throes of sexual ecstasy flooded through her. She made a distressed sound and tried to push against him again, but his hold was unbreakable. She bowed her shoulders and dropped her head, letting her forehead rest against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Reyes,” she whispered.

His shoulder jerked a little against her as though he were surprised. He brought a hand up and smoothed the hair back so he could see her face. “Why’re you sorry, nena?” he asked with a frown.

“You can’t have me,” she whispered, her eyes boring into his. “Even if you truly want me.”

His dark eyes widened for a moment, trapped in the innocent beauty of her multi-coloured gaze. Before he could reply, argue with her, she brought a hand up between their bodies and pressed it against her chest and said, “I don’t have many things, Reyes. Oh, I have clothes and I have jewels. Things I don’t want and never really cared about. Things I would give away in a heartbeat for five more minutes with my family. But the things that are real in life? I don’t have many of those. But the things that I do have are mine. I taught them to myself over painful years of Ignacio’s lessons. The things I taught myself are honesty, integrity and loyalty. You understand what I’m saying, Reyes?”

He swore savagely, baring his teeth at her. Then he jerked his head in a nod. He took her hair in his fist and crushed the soft strands for a moment. “Yeah, I understand, Casey.”

“Loyalty,” she whispered.

He growled and jerked her head back, baring her throat while pulling her closer against him, into the incredible heat of his body. She moaned, knowing her body was reacting to him in a way she’d never before experienced, flooding her with wet heat. “You feel that, woman?” he growled, leaning in to run his lips whisper soft across her throat, barely caressing her.

“Yes!” she gasped, her voice barely a whimper of sound. “It doesn’t matter, Reyes. I belong to him.”

Rage vibrated in his voice as he spoke against her soft skin. “He doesn’t fucking deserve you.” He stood with her still in his arms, handed her off to Alonzo and said, “Get her home safely.”

8

“Fuck that woman,” Reyes growled, downing a generous drink straight from the bottle before slamming it on the table.

Casey Hernandez was dangerous. She was testing his calm. She was driving him to drink.

He strode to the window and glared into the night. His meeting with her had not gone as he’d planned. Instead of clarifying things, he’d found himself more confused, more entangled. She was an infuriating mixture of world-weary siren and stunted half-child that never grew up. When she’d flat out told him that her husband hadn’t touched her in over a year, he’d damn near torn her clothes off and fucked her right there in the booth, despite the few hundred witnesses swarming around them and her bodyguard a few feet away.

Then she’d given him the one gift he couldn’t refuse, the one thing that was guaranteed to save her life in all this. She’d promised him loyalty. Well, not him. But as good as. She’d given her loyalty to Ignacio Hernandez, a disgusting pig of a man. One of the poorest excuses for a business partner that Reyes had ever had to work with – a situation that had only been allowed to go on this long because of the female. If she’d given her loyalty to such a man, because of a vow, most likely forcibly given when she was barely more than a child, then what would she give to Reyes when he finally had her wholly within his power? The thought took his breath away.

He would settle for nothing less than Casey Hernandez’s utter and complete surrender; her loyalty. He would heal the damaged beauty and she would stand tall at his side as his scarred queen.

He reached for the bottle again, swearing viciously when he knocked it sideways, spilling the contents across the table. He snatched it up, took another long drink and then threw it away from him in an uncharacteristic moment of rage. The satisfying shatter of glass barely calmed him.

He wanted nothing more than to drag the woman out of that fucking mansion and away from the husband that should never have had her. Every time he saw her she managed to claw her way under his skin a little more and he feared for her safety in that damn gilded cage she lived in. If her husband didn’t do something to her, she might manage to fucking hurt herself. Either with the pills or her own reckless disregard for her safety. She’d say something stupid to Ignacio or one of his men. Roll her pretty eyes at the wrong guy at the wrong time. She seemed incapable of perfect obedience, no matter how hard she tried.

He’d just have to go with his original plan. The one that would make her safe and ensure her freedom all in one stroke; Mrs. Hernandez would become a widow.

Casey woke to the beautiful aroma of subtle, flowery perfume. A smile curved her lips and she sighed, stretching under her blankets, enjoying the smoothness of her sheets against bare legs and arms. She usually wore light cotton sleep shorts and a tank top to bed. Not very sexy, but it didn’t matter since she slept alone. She enjoyed the comfort and she liked the feel of her fluffy quilt wrapped around her body.

Today was one of those mornings where she preferred to wake up slowly and allow the day to creep in with soothing sluggishness. She wiggled her face against the blanket, enjoying the softness against her cheek. The lovely sweet smell wafted around her, tantalizing her and drifting softly next to her face. Her lashes fluttered open and she forced herself to focus on the thing that had touched her.

It was a petal. Like from a flower. She untangled her arms from the blanket and pushed herself up on an elbow, reaching for it. She picked up the silky rose petal and rubbed it between her fingers. It was an honest to goodness rose petal. Looking around she realized she was surrounded by them. Hundreds of rose petals drifted over her prone, blanket covered body and all across the tall Queen Anne bed. She frowned, trying to register where they had come from.

It wasn’t unusual for the maid to come in while she was sleeping to drop off breakfast or laundry. Casey was a terrible sleeper, so when she did finally get to sleep she tended to sleep hard, oblivious to the world around her. But the quiet woman, who rarely said two words to Casey was unlikely to randomly shower her mistress in rose petals unless ordered to. Sitting up with a frown, Casey felt several petals fall from her hair and float to the warm bed. She plucked one that had tangled in the ends of her long, disheveled hair. She wondered what colour they were. Red?

As she started to climb from the bed a vase filled with what had to be at least three dozen roses caught her attention. It was perched on her vanity table. Her mouth fell open in surprise. Somehow the gorgeous arrangement was even more of a shock than waking up in a pile of rose petals. In the ten years that she’d been married to Ignacio, he’d never once bought flowers for her. He’d never even bought her a birthday present. She doubted he knew her birthday had just passed a few weeks ago.

So, the odds that this beautiful gift came from her husband were extremely small. And there was only one other man who was pursuing her with any kind of dedication. Her heart tripped in anticipation as she approached her makeup table and reached for the small, white envelope nestled carefully within the perfect, delicate blooms. She let her fingertips linger against the velvety tips, enjoying the feel of them against her skin; absorbing the quiet loveliness of such a gift. Pretending for just a moment that she was free to accept such extravagance without all the baggage that came between them.

She pulled her hand away and opened the envelope, tugging the plain white card out. It said:

Pink is your colour.

8:00pm tonight,

Room 1228, Plaza condos.

Reyes

She looked toward the bed and then back at the vase. The flowers were pink. He remembered that she couldn’t see colours and he wanted her to know what colour he chose, that he didn’t choose red for her. She let a tiny smile linger on her lips for a moment, allowed the rush of emotion in as she felt what it was like to have a man pay real attention to her. Lavish a gift upon her even though he wouldn’t be there to see her reaction or receive a thank you.

Then reality intruded. She couldn’t allow this to continue; whatever this was. She’d had enough. Ignacio could just work this deal alone. She wasn’t going to allow her emotions to get involved any more than they already were and then get crushed when the big boys were done playing with her. For once she wanted to call the shots, and she was calling this one.

She didn’t bother changing. She walked swiftly into her washroom and pulled her robe over her sleep outfit, washed her face and brushed her teeth. Then she strode into the hall where Alonzo stood waiting for her to show her face and tell him her plan for her day. She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin.

“I want to see him, now,” she informed him, using the best impression of “snotty voice” she could come up with, a useful by-product of her hated Tuesday lunches.

Alonzo flexed his shoulders until they cracked. “You don’t have an appointment.”

Casey huffed out a breath and snarled, “I don’t give a shit. He’s going to see me on my time for once.” She walked past him down the hall, her bare feet slapping against the marble. His eyes widened as he finally looked at her and took in her lack of proper attire. Casey rarely left her bedroom unless she was fully clothed or going to the pool. She glared over her shoulder when Alonzo fell into step behind her. “Unless you plan on touching me, you won’t be stopping me, Alonzo.”

Alonzo didn’t touch her, but he dogged her every step through the mansion toward the foyer. She stormed toward Ignacio’s office, never losing momentum, despite the terrified beating of her heart begging her to reconsider, to remember his temper and the years of hard lessons on obedience and her place within his household. She was too angry to listen to her own common sense. She wanted answers.

The doorknob to Ignacio’s office opened easily under her hand, but she had to shove hard to get the heavy panel to open under her thin frame. It swung wide and she stumbled a little in the doorway, her robe gaping to reveal her long, bare legs. Ignacio looked up from behind his desk. Both he and his second-in-command, Diego, reached for their guns, but seeing a disheveled Casey, they subsided.

After a brief moment of observation, taking in her stubborn stance, Ignacio waved Diego from the room with an annoyed, “Give me ten minutes.”

Casey stepped quickly out of Diego’s way as he approached the door, his cold, malevolent eyes crawling over her body. She quickly twitched the robe back into place and tugged the belt tighter. She despised Ignacio’s second-in-command even more than she hated her own husband. He was the one who delivered her husband’s punishments over the years when Ignacio was too weak-stomached or too busy to follow through. She knew if she was ever truly left in Diego’s care she wouldn’t last long. There was something about the man that took sadistic to a new level. And the way he looked at her made it clear he would love to get his hands on her.

“What do you want, Casey?” Ignacio demanded the moment the door closed behind Diego. “You know better than to burst in here. I don’t have time for you this morning.”

She shivered at the menacing tone of voice Ignacio was treating her to. He was usually cold and distant, but this spelled danger. She forced herself to remember her reason for seeking him out. She needed to remember her outrage. “I’m done playing nice with the Bolivian,” she announced bravely, approaching his desk. “Allowing him to take me to your club was one thing; tacky, but okay, fine. The flowers, though, they’re too much. You allowed another man to send me flowers in our home. The place where we live together. Have you no shame, Ignacio?”

His eyes suddenly took on a gleam that she didn’t like. It was greed combined with something else. Something awful and disgusting… something she couldn’t quite place. “You don’t like his attentions, my dear?” he drawled, watching her carefully.

She felt her face flush and she avoided his eyes. “I don’t understand why you’re allowing him to do this to me. In a decade of marriage, you haven’t allowed another man to lay a hand on me except for punishment, but now, suddenly this man is allowed to do whatever he wants?” She wrapped her arms protectively around her middle and forced herself to meet his eyes. “Why are you doing this, Ignacio? What do you hope to gain by handing me to this man on a silver platter?”

He snorted and slapped his hands on his desk, pushing himself back. He stood and slowly circled the desk, his eyes sweeping her tall, lithe form. “You’re a beautiful woman, figure it out. You belong to me, Casey. You always have and for as long as you live, you always will. You float around this house like a useless piece of nothing. I ask you for one little thing? Just to be nice to this guy, my business partner… and that’s a problem for you?”

She turned to look at him and lifted her chin, the tangle of her pale hair swaying with the movement. “Yes, it is a problem for me,” she said defiantly. “I don’t want to see him again.”

The strike came so quickly she didn’t have time to so much as flinch. He slapped her on the side of the face, then before she could collapse, grabbed a fistful of hair and slammed her forward into his desk. She cried out as her hip smacked hard into the wood and then she was forced to sprawl face down across his paperwork. She bit her lip to stop further shrieks from erupting, knowing the punishment would be worse if she made a fuss. She tasted blood where she bit down too hard.

He leaned across her back, crushing her further against the side of his unyielding desk, bruising her hip even more. His hot, horrible breath slid over her bare shoulder where her robe had slipped. Involuntary tears of pain glittered in eyes that stared straight ahead, frozen on his big, fancy leather chair.

Unlike years past when he’d struck her in anger, his voice was surprisingly calm as he spoke. Now he seemed intent on hurting her with dispassionate malevolence, simply to get his point across. “You will do as I say tell you, Casey. Or I have no more use for you. Got me?”

Casey nodded and blinked rapidly, tears spilling over her cheeks and dripping onto the papers on his desk. Absently she hoped they were ruining something important. Maybe whatever business deal he was trying to seal with the Bolivian. Ignacio pulled her abruptly to her feet and steadied her when her legs would have given way. She was the exact same height as him in bare feet, taller in heels, which of course annoyed him. Fleetingly it occurred to her that Reyes wouldn’t care about something stupid like that. He was enough of a man to feel pride in the presence of a striking woman, whether she was taller than him or not.

Ignacio smoothed his hands down her arms, wrapped his thick fingers around the thin columns and drew her closer, his thumbs rubbing absently against her chilled skin. She stood stiffly, holding herself as far back as she could, making sure any expression of loathing was wiped clean from her face. Her ear was still ringing and her cheek was on fire from the vicious blow she’d taken.

“You will dress up, you will look beautiful and you will go to his room at the Plaza at 8:00 tonight. You’ll do whatever he wants to do with you and you won’t disappoint me, will you Casey, my girl?” he asked, his voice cajoling. They both knew he wasn’t asking her a real question, but stating a fact. He’d only given her a small taste of what he was really capable of. Why had she so stupidly forgotten how little power she had under Ignacio’s regime?

“Of course, Ignacio,” she murmured through stiff lips.

He led her to the door and opening it, handed her off to Alonzo, who was silently ignoring whatever Diego was saying to him. The two men had never gotten along.

“Make sure she’s presentable for tonight,” Ignacio said before turning his back on Casey and her bodyguard, dismissing them.

9

Casey stared at her reflection with a mixture of resigned despair and anger. No amount of makeup could disguise the mark high on her cheek or the swollen bite mark on her lip that were clearly visible through her careful efforts. Absently she wondered if it was part of Ignacio’s plan. To present his wife, damaged goods, to another man who clearly wanted her. Only she wasn’t sure what the other man ultimately wanted with her. A quick fuck? A way to mess with his business rival?

Ignacio had sent an entire outfit for her to wear, including a dress, heels and jewelry. As the day had progressed and she’d prepared for her meeting with Reyes she began to feel more and more like a pawn in some deadly game. She wore a beautiful white dress that clung lovingly to every curve. It was curved along her legs to give the illusion of length along one thigh, but if she moved wrong it would also give a tantalizing glimpse high on her other thigh. It was sleeveless with a neckline that plunged halfway to her stomach. She didn’t bother with a bra. She’d been blessed with decent cleavage, but hadn’t been eating well lately, which had shrunk some of her curves.

The dress fit her perfectly though and looked stunning when paired with the four-inch silver stilettos and diamonds Ignacio had sent from the safe room, a bracelet, teardrop pendant earrings and her wedding rings. She almost never wore her wedding set. Ignacio said they were too expensive to wear in public and, honestly, she was relieved. They were so big and gaudy, she hated the sight of them. But tonight, clearly, he intended to send the message that she was taken… even though she had orders to give Reyes anything he wanted. Which presumably included her body.

Casey sat on the edge of her bed, a hairbrush clutched tight in her hand. The thought made her feel sick to her stomach. Not the thought of Reyes touching her. God, his touch melted everything inside her. Like nothing she’d ever experienced. No, it was the thought that her husband could so easily sell her to another man. And that she had no idea what the true intentions of that other man were. She was beginning to think she was in danger of really caring about Reyes, but he was mafia, just like her husband. No… he was worse than her husband. She could sense the lurking predator in him, getting ready to strike. She just wished she knew whose throat he intended to tear out. She lifted the brush and absently ran in through her hair, trying to hold the tears back so she wouldn’t ruin her make-up and piss Ignacio off. She would have pretended she had a headache if she thought it would get her out of seeing Reyes again, but she knew that wasn’t an option.

Less than an hour later she was standing in front of his hotel room door with Alonzo and another man, one of Reyes people at her back. She could feel the tension sizzling between the two men, but kept her head tilted down, her hair covering her cheeks when Reyes opened the door.

“Casey,” he greeted her, his deep voice caressing her name with warmth.

She wanted to look up, but kept her eyes on his waist. He wore dress pants with a leather belt and a nice shirt, tucked in. She wasn’t sure what colours he wore, but she thought maybe dark, either black or grey. His shoes were very nice and shined dully in the light of the hallway. She wanted to laugh bitterly. If Ignacio hadn’t marked up her face she would never have noticed the man’s shoes.

“Reyes,” she greeted him, infusing ice into her voice and quickly moving past him before he could question why she wasn’t looking at him.

He closed the door behind her and offered to take her wrap. She nodded and let it fall from her shoulders as he tugged, gently moving her hair aside so he wouldn’t catch the strands. She shivered from his soft touch at the back of her neck and rapidly stepped away from him toward the darkest part of the room, a table next to the window. She could stand in the shadows there.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, approaching her from behind.

She wanted to laugh out loud and point out that she didn’t have a choice, but she kept her mouth closed. It was always smarter to stay silent. When she opened her mouth she said too much, got herself in trouble. Instead she focused on the view outside the window, the incredible swath of lights that swept Miami’s coast before plunging toward the ocean.

“A drink?” he asked.

He was standing so close she felt his heat touch her bare shoulder. “Yes, please. Maybe something a little stronger than orange juice this time,” she murmured a hint of wryness in her voice, her eyes locked on the darkness of the water far below.

He chuckled and moved away from her for a moment, returning with a glass of white wine. She reached to take it, without turning to look at him. The coolness of the glass against her fingers told her he’d chilled the wine before she arrived. “Thank you.”

“You like the view, nena?” he asked when she still didn’t move to look at him.

She nodded and took a hasty sip of the wine. It was delicious. Smooth and sweet with a hint of tartness. “I love this part of Miami,” she told him. “Especially these high up condos, they’re so beautiful. Do you own this one?” She hazarded a quick glance around the penthouse suite before moving her eyes back to the window.

“No,” he said shortly, not bothering to continue that line of conversation. She wasn’t surprised. Reyes didn’t seem like a man that tolerated idle chat. He said what he wanted to say and moved on.

He reached past her, deliberately brushing her arm with his sleeve. She swore he inflicted those light touches on her as a form of torture. They seemed to do just as much to her senses as when he outright grabbed her. He opened the door leading to the expansive deck and flicked his wrist, indicating she should accompany him outside. She stepped over the threshold, her heels clicking softly against the tiles as she stepped toward the balcony railing, taking in the breathtaking view of the Miami coastline. She made sure to keep her back to him while they stood together.

He allowed the silence to reign for several long minutes as she sipped her drink and tried valiantly to steady her nerves. It didn’t help when he caged her against the railing, gripping the metal on either side of her body and bracing his arms so she was trapped between him and a long, long drop. She glanced down, the liquid in the glass shaking a little as she let that dark voice in the back of her mind run free for just a second. The one that whispered to her, every once in a while, that it would be easier to just let go. That if she succeeded this time Ignacio couldn’t punish her the way he promised after her last botched attempt.

She tore her eyes away from the beckoning darkness and focused on the strong fingers flexed against the railing. It didn’t matter. Reyes would grab her before she even completed the thought, let alone the action. Besides, she didn’t want him acquainted with that sad, dark part of her. He already had a pretty good idea of how messed up she was and he still seemed to want her. His next words proved it.

“Stay the night with me,” he said huskily, his accent caressing each syllable as he leaned into her back to speak into her ear from behind.

She nearly moaned out loud from the feel of him against her, his groin grazing her ass. Her thin dress made it so she felt every small touch from the fabric of his trousers and the graze of his belt buckle against her curve of her cheek. His broad shoulders brushed hers as he leaned in. The cool evening breeze gently lifted her hair and flipped it back across his bicep where it was braced next to her, caging her body in. From the corner of her eye she could see the barbaric beauty of her pale hair laying across the darkness of his shirtsleeve.

“No,” she sighed.

He made an impatient sound from behind her and eased closer, surrounding her with heat. Her long hair snaked back around them, enveloping them in a cocoon. His knuckles tightened against the railing. In anger or frustrated lust? Both, maybe. She was certain this man wasn’t used to denial.

“I want you to stay with me, cariña,” he growled in her ear, his voice throbbing with authoritative energy. “Leave Ignacio and come to me. Not just tonight, but permanently. I can do things for you, give you things you can’t even imagine. I can protect you. Set you up with more luxuries than you can even hope to experience here in this narrow world.”

Casey gasped and whirled in his arms, her hair whipping around them. She was careful to tilt her head away though, keeping half her face in the shadows still. He straightened and moved back a little to give her room. She stood to her full height, which, in her heels, brought her eye to eye with Reyes. It didn’t matter that he was much broader than her and outweighed her by at least eighty pounds, she glared at him, showing him exactly what she thought of his offer.

“Never,” she hissed pressing her hands back against the cold, unyielding glass of the balcony. “Fuck you and fuck your offer, Reyes. I already have all the material shit that I need in my life and I’d give it all up for a taste of freedom. If you had any idea what I’ve done to leave…” Abruptly she brought a hand up to cut off the flow of words and pressed shaking fingers against her lips, reminding herself not to let her tongue get away from itself.

“What?” Reyes demanded, his too sharp brain catching on to her words. “What would you do to leave him? Apparently, you won’t accept offers from other, more powerful men. Tell me, nena, what exactly will you do to escape a lifetime with Ignacio Hernandez?”

She tried to turn away from him, dismiss his words in the hope that he would drop it, but he grabbed her arm and swung her around. She moved quickly on her heels, reaching out to catch herself so she wouldn’t fall. He steadied her and she looked up at him, full in the face, the light falling across her. His eyes roved over her, lingering on her swollen lip and bruised cheek.

“Shit,” she gasped turning her head, but it was too late. She could feel the instant stillness in his body as he absorbed the meaning behind her battered face. She felt the incoming storm as emotion swelled and seethed within him.

“Who hit you?” Reyes demanded, his voice lashing her.

Casey shivered but lifted her chin defiantly. “Who do you think?”

“Don’t give me that shit, Casey,” he snarled, rage vibrating thickly in his voice. He took hold of her chin and impatiently brushed the hair back from her face so he could see the marks better. “Did Ignacio do this to you?”

“Of course it was my husband. Do you really think he would allow anyone else to do this without permission?” she confirmed jerking her chin, but he refused to release his hold on her face. He smoothed a finger across the graze on her cheek, his touch gentle despite his seething anger.

“Why the fuck would he hit you, especially knowing I would see you tonight?” Reyes asked incredulously. “Does he have a death wish?”

She stared at him, at the threat of violence glittering fiercely in his eyes. All for her, all over the momentary pain Ignacio had caused her. She sighed and brought her hand up, closing it over his and forcing his hand away from her chin. Her bracelet slid along her arm as she moved, a reminder of the ownership another man had over her.

“Why do you think he hit me? I told him I didn’t want to see you again,” she admitted.

She could feel the heat of his fury rise further and flinched back, pressing against the railing of the balcony. She expected him to have the same reaction as Ignacio. To attack her for not wanting to see him. Instead he slowly reached out so she could see what he was doing and pulled her away from the railing. She shivered as the cool evening air washed over her bare arms and shoulders.

He gently brushed her hair back from her face once more and touched the bruise with the back of his fingers. “He hit you because you were reluctant to see me again.”

She nodded miserably and stood stiffly in his hold. He cupped the back of her head, holding her still and leaned forward to touch his lips against hers. Her lips parted in surprise at the feathery light touch of his mouth to hers. He took advantage by licking the cut on her bottom lip where she’d bitten herself. She jerked back, but he held her immobile with one hand at the back of her head and another around her waist. He brushed his lips back and forth across hers, with gentle purpose.

Heat sizzled through her veins with the force of a lightening strike. She tried to concentrate on not passing out as every nerve ending in her body lit up with pleasure from the soothing touch of his lips against hers and the firm hand wrapped around her, forcing her to hold still while he overwhelmed her senses. Her legs wobbled on her heels and she probably would have collapsed if he hadn’t been holding her up.

Finally, he pulled back from the most perfect kiss she’d ever had, his mouth only a few inches from hers when he spoke. “I was already planning to kill your husband, cariña. Now that I know he’s put hands on you, I will make it so much fucking worse. He’ll beg me for death long before I let that miserable fuck go to hell.”

Casey’s eyes widened in shock and she opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, he interrupted her, his hands falling to her waist in a tight hold. “I know what you will say and I want you to think, Casey. Think hard about who your husband is, what he’s done to you and what you want.”

She shook her head, her hair swinging. She pushed against his chest, but he wouldn’t let her go. She dug her nails into his chest over his shirt, trying to hurt him, to force him to release her. His hold was unbreakable. “Stop it, Casey. Hold still and listen to me.”

She whimpered and shook her head.

He shook her until her head snapped up and they were staring at each other, her eyes wide and fearful, his snapping with fierce energy and anger. “He’s fucking handed you over to me to use however I want. He gave you to me bruised and…” he grabbed her hand and lifted it, her wedding rings glinting in the faint evening light, “wearing his fucking rings. Why? So I could fuck his wife, knowing I was taking a woman I want but can’t keep? He’s a disgusting, degenerate fuck and you know it. He deserves worse than the death I’m going to deal him.”

A sob tore from her throat and she covered her mouth with one shaking hand. She moaned and tried to turn away from him, to deny his words. She didn’t want to hear this. It was too much, more than she could handle. She’d been sleepwalking through life for a decade. In the space of barely a week she was forced to deal with a whole barrage of emotions and now the man that woke her up was confessing plans of murder on his penthouse balcony.

A laugh escaped her and she looked around wildly for escape. It was either a twelve-story fall or back through the penthouse into the cold presence of her bodyguard. Her life was a cage no matter where she turned. His grip on her waist tightened painfully as he forced her attention back to him.

“Don’t you dare drift away from me, Casey. I know how you work, woman, and when we’re together I won’t let you have your little escapism tricks. When we’re together we’ll be together,” he growled.

“Stop it,” she cried out, the words wrenched from her. She shoved harder against him, struggling in earnest now. “Just stop, Reyes. We’ll never be together!”

“You think not?” he snarled, turning to the balcony door and dragging her through.

She squirmed against him, dragging her heels against the floor as he hauled her against the table, shoving her until she was almost sitting on the marble top. Her skirt had twisted until it was nearly hiked up to her waist. He glanced down and groaned as he reached for her. She tried to dive away from him but his hands gripped the outside of her bare thighs and his chest pressed against hers. Capturing her, stilling her. He slid his hands up her thighs, his thumbs caressing the edge of her panties. Casey sucked air into her starved lungs and resisted the urge to tilt her hips to give him better access as scorching heat flooded through her belly and ran like a river through her pussy.

“Ah god, cariña,” Reyes growled against her throat rocking his hips into the cradle of her thighs and forcing her to feel the thick hardness of his erection. He licked her exposed throat, running his tongue down the side and then gently nipping the place where her neck met her shoulder. His teeth turned more savage with each word until he bit down hard enough to leave a mark. “Let me have you… let me fucking have you and I promise I will make it so fucking good.”

She slapped her hands down on the table behind her and dropped her head back, unwittingly giving him better access to the front of her body. He immediately moved his mouth across her collarbone, taking stinging bites until he reached the hollow between her breasts. He sucked and licked, touching and seducing her body. He flicked the top of her dress to the side, exposing her breast to the cool air before covering it with his hot, skillful mouth.

Casey’s breath whooshed out of her and her arms gave out. He caught her before she could hit the table without ever taking his attention from her breast. She whimpered and cried out underneath him, squirming against the hardness of the table. She clenched her hands into fists to keep from grabbing hold of him and demanding he devour her the way she desperately wanted, the way she needed. She couldn’t, she just couldn’t participate, no matter how bad she wanted it.

He reached for her skirt, shoving it up her thighs and then slid his fingers into her panties, touching her. She felt the rumble in his chest before he spoke. “So fucking wet. Fuck, it was like you were made for me, Casey.”

She felt pressure as he slid his fingers further into her, felt the explosive pleasure of him sliding across her clit and into her pussy. Her eyes flew open and she gasped, “Stop!”

He froze, his body going from warmly fluid to completely rigid over top of hers. He pulled his hand from her panties and reached for her. She cried out in fear as he dragged her into his chest, her legs still spread and dangling on either side of his hips. She could still feel the insistent press of his cock straining between them and moaned, half in need and half in distress. She fucking hated this situation!

“Your husband told you to fuck me?” he demanded, his dark eyes fierce on hers.

Tears flooded her eyes and she nodded. “Y-yes, that’s pretty much what he said.”

“And you’re saying no to me?” he asked, his voice a quiet snarl.

The breath shuddered in and out of her and real fear of his retaliation began to replace her arousal. But she held her ground. She nodded and said in a shaking voice, “I’m saying n-no.”

“Because you’re loyal to that sick fuck?” he demanded, his fingers tightening on her arms.

“Because I made a vow to be loyal to that sick fuck,” she cried out, hardening her voice and forcing the tears in her eyes back. Yes, this situation was fucked, but she was a mafia wife and she had her principles.

He smiled, his face hard and strained, but his eyes gleaming triumph. “Good girl, Casey,” he said, his voice thick with passion. “You are my good fucking girl.”

“I… I don’t understand,” she whispered, frowning, trying to figure out what was happening. Was she about to be raped? Coerced into sex? Or kicked out of the penthouse for being a good girl?

He chuckled and pulled her further into his chest, embracing her lightly, running his hands down her back soothingly. She lay stiffly against his chest and listened to the beat of his heart against her ear and the rumble of his voice as he talked. “Your loyalty is stunning, cariña. You give it to a man that doesn’t deserve it because you must. Because you promised and you know no other way. Now I am going to crush that man and turn your loyalty to me. You will become my queen. Mi Reina.”

Her heart sped up, pounding with each word. He was going to take her away from Ignacio, give her another cage, turn her into another version of her current self. Mafia wife. And she would hate him for it. She pushed back, shoving away from his chest to look him in the eyes.

“No,” she told him. “I won’t be your queen.”

His face hardened into granite lines and he pulled her off the table, standing her in front of him. He straightened her clothes with quick efficiency. “You won’t have a choice,” he said, his voice holding a cold ruthlessness she was familiar with from Ignacio and his men but hadn’t heard from Reyes yet.

“I’ll tell Ignacio what you’re planning, he’ll stop you,” she said, edging back in case he got angry at her threat.

He merely took her by the arm and led her to the door of the condo, retrieved her wrap and folded it around her shoulders, careful to cover every inch of her exposed cleavage. He leaned closer, murmuring in her ear, “I’m counting on it, Mrs. Hernandez.”

Casey’s mouth fell open and she looked over her shoulder at the man who was proposing insanity. At the man who was planning on murdering her husband, taking over his business and stealing his wife… all while his enemy knew his plan. He was either incredibly confident, insane or he knew something she didn’t. He dropped a stinging kiss on her lips and opened the door to usher her out.

10

“I want to speak with Ignacio right now!” Casey argued with Diego as she’d been arguing with him for the past few days without results.

Ignacio refused to see her.

Diego’s dark, sadistic eyes swept over her body, taking in every inch with a look that suggested she shouldn’t have bothered with the terry cloth robe over top of her bikini because he was picturing her without it. Probably without the bathing suit too. She crossed her arms over her breasts and gave him the coldest glare she could come up with.

“You need a reminder what happens when you get demanding of the boss’s time, little girl,” Diego sneered, his eyes lingering on the top swell of her breasts. “You probably like being smacked around like that though, don’t you? Bitches like you’ll take whatever attention you can get.”

Casey flared her nostrils as she tried to bring her temper under control while Diego postured in front of her and did his best to make her feel small and insignificant. He came within a hairsbreadth of touching her, lifting his hand toward her bruised cheek and running his knuckles down her face without actually making physical contact. She whipped her head away from him and backed up a few steps, her sandaled feet slapping against the floor.

Alonzo shifted at her back and snarled, “No touching.”

Diego laughed, the slimy sound drawing a shudder from her. He shrugged and nodded absently. “Yeah,” he drawled, his dead eyes piercing her, marking her. “For now.”

Casey tightened her arms around her middle and took a steadying breath. Diego made her sick. He’d done things to her over the years, hurt her, at Ignacio’s behest. Usually small things, like hit her with a belt or locked her in a closet. But the look in his eyes when he’d punished her told her just how much he enjoyed every moment of her pain, wished he could inflict worse. He’d been one of the three men in the room with her when Ignacio had burned her hand. Watching her face as Alonzo had pinned her down. She’d known that he’d been desperately turned on by her excruciating pain, seen the terrible lust in his eyes as she’d screamed while her flesh had burned.

That day had convinced her that she was better off going dead inside, sleeping through life, rather than attempting to resist the marriage that had been forced on her. So, she had essentially tucked Casey safely away from these ruthless men until such a time came that she could emerge. The look in Diego’s eyes as she begged to see Ignacio frightened her. Not only was he refusing her, controlling her ability to see her husband, but he was silently telling her something with those terrible dark eyes. Telling her that their time would come and that it was coming soon.

“Fine,” she snapped, looking away from him. “Since you refuse to allow me to see him, or he refuses to see me, whichever it is, then I’ll tell you what I need to tell him.”

Diego waved his hand in front of her. “By all means, chica. Speak to me.”

She gritted her teeth, but forced herself to voice the warning that she’d been trying to get to Ignacio since her meeting with Reyes. She turned icy eyes up to Diego and said as coldly as she could, “The Bolivian’s are planning some kind of takeover. Reyes intends to kill Ignacio.”

The mockery fell from Diego’s face for a moment and shock replaced his expression. “Reyes told you this himself?” he asked incredulously, his voice sceptical.

“Yes,” Casey replied.

Why wasn’t Diego freaking out and dragging her in to see Ignacio? Shouldn’t he be more concerned? Unless they already knew of Reyes plans. Suddenly the look on Diego’s face became speculative as he looked her over. “Now, why the fuck would the Bolivian tell you of his plans?” He stalked closer to her. Casey moved swiftly backwards until she bumped into Alonzo who jumped quickly out of the way so he wouldn’t accidentally touch her again. “You got a pussy made of gold?” Diego demanded crudely, lunging toward her.

Casey cried out and fell backwards as her sandal slid on the marble floor. Unable to catch herself she hit the side table and fell, crashing hard on the unyielding marble. She heard Alonzo swear viciously, but there wasn’t much he could do. Diego hadn’t actually done anything except frighten her. She was the idiot for letting a thug get to her. She shoved herself up onto her knees and shook her hair back, glaring at Diego for all she was worth. She might be down, but she was still going to let the guy know exactly how much she fucking hated him.

She felt his eyes crawl all over her exposed flesh where her robe had come open during her fall. Her hands moved automatically to pull the two halves closed while she kept her eyes on him as he crouched down in front of her. He flexed his biceps, making sure she saw how massive they were next to her insignificant strength. She breathed hard through her nose, forcing herself to hold his gaze.

“Stupid woman,” he drawled. “You think we don’t know what the Bolivians are planning? You are just a distraction for that lowlife savage while we move our people into place and call in some favours.”

She frowned in surprise. She’d been used to distract Reyes? Somehow, she thought he was too smart to fall for that. But he had definitely been interested in her. Had pursued her. Was still pursuing her, sending gifts to the mansion for her. “I don’t understand any of this,” she whispered.

“Poor, baby,” Diego mocked her, his cold eyes raking over her breasts while he talked. “You don’t need to understand, you had your chance to be useful. And it seems you were more useful than we thought. I’ll tell Ignacio that Reyes revealed his plans to you. Only a man in love does something stupid like that.”

Her eyes widened in horror as the impact of his words hit her. Had she been utterly wrong in telling Diego of Reyes’ plan? Had she taken her loyalty to Ignacio too far? She’d lived by her own personal code for so long that maybe she didn’t see the right path any more when it was directly in front of her. But… no. Reyes seemed to understand her, seemed to understand how she worked. He knew she was unfailingly loyal to Ignacio. He knew she would rat him out to her husband, had been counting on it. She had to believe that the man who made her body sing and was starting to look toward her scarred heart knew what he was doing. Because she sure as fuck didn’t.

She jumped when the door to Ignacio’s office slammed open and he stood glowering in the doorway. He stared with open hostility at the tableau in front of him for a moment. Then, completely ignoring the fact that his wife was sprawled on the floor next to his second-in-command, snapped, “Diego, I need you.”

11

“He has a sense of humour,” Casey murmured with amusement, eyeing the array of gifts Reyes had sent her.

Each one had significance and, if she were being honest, chipped away a little more at the armour around her heart. She hadn’t seen him again since their erotic and stormy encounter in his penthouse suite almost a week ago. But each time a new gift arrived, it was a reminder that he hadn’t forgotten her. Nor had he forgotten the things that she’d said to him in each of their conversations.

None of the gifts were overly expensive, which told her that he’d listened when she told him that the luxuries surrounding her meant little to her. Her fingers drifted over a framed picture of herself. She had no idea when it was taken because it was a close up of her face. In the photo she was leaning forward, her hair covering most of her face, except for a carefree smile curving her lips as she stared off at nothing in particular. The expression on her face surprised her since she so rarely smiled. Casey lifted her fingers and touched her lips, wondering when she’d smiled like that and what she’d been thinking at the time. How had he gotten such an intimate picture of her? The mansion was locked down tight and she so rarely went out.

She put the picture down and picked up the next item, a book. This one made her laugh out loud and roll her eyes. It was a tourist’s guidebook to Bolivia. She’d actually read the entire thing cover to cover in one evening, eager for knowledge of Reyes’ home country. She wondered which region his home was in since there were several. She tried not to think too hard about the significance of his giving her the book.

“Kantuta,” she whispered, picking up the gorgeous blooms, yet another gift. They looked so exotic she wondered if he’d had to go to great lengths to find them. They were strange looking, but hauntingly beautiful with a long tube-like bell instead of petals. On a suspicion, she’d looked up the national flower of Bolivia to discover that there were two. This one was native to the cooler, western side of the region that contained the Andes. She wondered if he was telling her, indirectly, where he lived.

She flipped the guidebook open and pressed the flowers inside, wanting to preserve them for as long as she could. This was the second time in her life she’d received flowers. Both times from the same man in the space of a week. She was beginning to think he liked her.

The other gifts included a lovely silk wrap that she discovered was a light pink colour by asking her maid. He also gave her several books on the science of migraines written by reputable neurologists from around the world. This particular bundle had filled her eyes with tears and made her think he was doing more than playing terrible games with her. It also broke her heart a little. Because it didn’t matter how thoughtful he was, how much he treated her as though he actually cared. She still belonged to another man.

And Reyes had made it clear to her that he valued her loyalty, even if it belonged to someone else. That was the tragedy of her blossoming feelings for the Bolivian mafia boss. Though she suspected he could be as much of a monster as her own husband, she also thought maybe he was capable of loving her back. His thoughtful gifts proved that he felt something. But she couldn’t go to him, no matter how much she wanted to.

Ignacio owned her.

“We move as planned,” Reyes growled to Alejandro.

His second nodded sharply, but hesitated. Reyes stiffened and waited. He knew the other man had something to say, but was so used to heeding the boss’s orders without question that he didn’t know if he should verbalize the thought. Smart decision. However, Reyes had appointed Alejandro his second for a reason. The man was uncommonly intelligent and had survived twelve years in Venezuelan intelligence before moving on to the head of a mercenary organization and then to Reyes who had lured him away with the promise of unparalleled riches and a medical treatment for his mother that would have been out of his reach without Reyes’ intervention.

“Just say it,” Reyes snarled, already knowing where Alejandro’s thoughts were, but knowing they had to have the conversation anyway.

Alejandro stood a little straighter, his eyes on the window behind Reyes. “What about the woman?”

“What about her?” Reyes spat.

Alejandro sighed a little, clearly unable to say exactly what he wanted. They were both ex-military men and thus used to plain speaking, but the big, beat-up head of Reyes security had no idea how to handle this unique situation. Women didn’t usually fall under their jurisdiction. At least not the kind they kept. “We have no extraction plan for her. If we move in as planned, she’ll be at the house when we hit it.”

Reyes stared coldly at the other man. He could feel fury rising up within, but forced it back and responded in the only way he knew how. “She’s his wife, she chose her loyalties. I asked her to come to me and she refused. Just make fucking sure nothing happens to her when we move in. I have a contact on the inside who’ll help keep her safe.”

Alejandro looked as though he were chewing on nails. Reyes understood the dilemma. They would be walking into a bloodbath, no matter what happened. And Casey Hernandez would be sitting right in the middle of it. It chilled him to the bone that there was nothing he could do to spare her from the coming war. Except extract her and keep her for himself. Take her from the keeping of one monster and move her into the keeping of another, infinitely worse. He only hoped she was smart enough to keep out of the path of the flying bullets.

Alejandro grunted. “We’ll do our best, boss.”

“You better,” Reyes told him, turning his cold gaze on the man he’d trusted with his life for the past several years. “If something happens to my future reina, I can assure you, I will come after you and whoever else was careless enough to allow her harm. I don’t care who puts the bullet in her, everyone will suffer my wrath.”

Alejandro met his eyes and nodded his understanding. The idea that Casey Hernandez would become the Queen of the Reyes cartel finally crystalizing. It was no longer a vague thought, gossip that he and the men discussed behind the bosses back. No, it seemed that the stunningly beautiful blond woman that their leader had been pursuing with relentless determination would be going home with them. As long as they could ensure her survival.

“She will live, Reyes,” Alejandro assured him. “You have my word.”

Reyes grunted as Alejandro pledged his loyalty to the pale, somewhat weak woman that would stand at his side and lead their organization; their people. Fuck, he hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. But he couldn’t imagine letting her go now, not after having a brief taste of her. Touching her petal soft skin, tasting her sweetness and learning each fascinating new fact that just made him want her even more. She would become his and she would rule at his side.

“I’m going to see her one more time before we move,” he told Alejandro.

It was Tuesday.

12

Casey tried to check out. She honestly did. She hated these women almost as much as she despised the men guarding her gilded cage. These were the birds that happily flew back into their cages and ate from the hands that fed them. But for some reason she couldn’t zone out the way she usually did during these godawful lunches, possibly because she’d started flushing some of her daily pills instead of blindly swallowing them.

She felt the burning hatred welling up inside her as they talked about the most useless things she could conceive of. She only dined with them because Elvira Montana was among the set. Beautiful, blond and coolly distant, Elvira barely took part in the conversation either. But Ignacio insisted that the two women meet and get to know each other.

Probably because Elvira was an older version of what Casey was to become. A coked-out mob wife whose husband had bought her way into this elite company of women. And her husband could maybe get Ignacio some deals on overseas product Ignacio wouldn’t otherwise be able to get his hands on. The others at the table included politician’s wives and daughters, a Spanish telanovella actress and Dahlia Paxton, a high-priced lawyer to the rich and famous.

Dahlia was talking about an awkward encounter she had at a gas station when she’d accidentally pulled up to the wrong pump and been expected to fill her own tank. “I mean, what did they think,” she laughed, flicking her wrist over her shoulder and reaching for her wine. “That I would get out of the car or something? Ugh, I would’ve gone to my meeting smelling of noxious gas fumes, or worse, I could’ve gotten cancer or something. I mean, isn’t it dangerous to pump your own gas? I could’ve started a fire or something! So, I just sat there and waited until someone came out and helped me. I out-stubborned those blue-collar assholes.”

Casey opened her mouth to make a comment about Dahlia’s ability to go to law school and pass the state bar, yet her surprising inability to pump her own gas without dousing herself in the noxious liquid and setting herself on fire, but Elvira put a restraining hand on her wrist. Casey glanced at the other woman with a raised eyebrow, but Elvira just shook her head and sighed.

“Not worth it,” she whispered for Casey’s ears alone. “Just go back to sleep darling.”

She patted Casey’s arm with long, manicured fingers and withdrew back into her own seat, settling in to ignore the bulk of the conversation once more. Though Casey was mildly surprised by Elvira’s intervention, she took it to heart. The older woman was right. There was no point in lambasting their entitled company. For several reasons. They wouldn’t thank her for it and in their elite society a snub could go a long way toward social suicide. Not something she could afford with the current state of her marriage. Casey shuddered and withdrew any further comments, instead contemplating Elvira’s cryptic message, ‘go back to sleep.’ Those four words had unwittingly struck right through to the heart of her, cutting deep into her soul.

“Excuse me,” she murmured, placing her napkin on the table and abruptly standing.

Elvira looked startled and asked, “Do you want me to come with you?” No doubt she was worried that she’d pushed the delicate young woman closer toward some invisible edge with her kindly intended words. Theirs was a small world where gossip travelled freely among the mob wives. Just like Casey knew Elvira was a frequent user of her husband’s product, Elvira knew that Casey had tried to kill herself a few years earlier to escape an unbearable marriage.

Casey managed a believable smile and said, “No thank you, Elvira, I’ll be fine.”

She made her way swiftly to the ladies’ room and was about to lock the door when it flew open, shoving her to one side. “What…?” she gasped, stumbling back, reaching out for the counter.

Reyes strode into the small space, slamming the door and locking it. He swept her with a single look from the bottom of her feet to the top of her head, encompassing each part of her, taking in her slim black high-waisted pencil skirt and bright pink silk blouse. She shook her head and edged along the counter, eyeing him warily.

“No,” she told him, trying to make her voice as stern as she could.

He ignored her, stalking closer, devouring every inch of her, his eyes lingering on her bare arms and face. “You got my gifts, cariña?”

“Yes,” she acknowledged, gripping the granite edge of the vanity behind her until her knuckles strained. She knew it was to stop herself from flinging herself at him. God, he looked so good! He was dressed casual in dark pants and a short-sleeved shirt that strained at his biceps.

“And?” he prompted.

She couldn’t help the reluctant grin that spread across her lips. “Thank you, Reyes, they were beautiful. I loved them. The flowers, the books… everything. Truly, I can’t even say how much they meant.”

He smiled at her, a real smile that softened his dark, scarred face for just a moment. She felt a ripple of gratitude that he would share the rare intimacy of that smile with her. This moment was special. That he was pleased his gifts meant something to her. That she’d appreciated him the way he wanted her to. His obsession for her was becoming mutual and she was tipping her hand.

They stared at each other for a few long, heartrending moments until she looked away and shook her head, a stray hair from her carefully coiffed updo trailing across her cheek. “Don’t do that, Reyes. Please just stop doing this to me,” she begged.

To his credit he didn’t pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. His face resumed its usual hard lines as he stared her down, showing her that he didn’t care how much she begged, he could and he would do whatever he liked with her. That she was at his mercy and with every encounter falling further prey to his seduction.

She held a shaking hand out, palm up and whispered, “I need you to be stronger than me.” She put every ounce of pleading she could into her voice as she begged him to leave her alone. “We both know I’m weak, Reyes. That I’m the pathetic, cracked wife of a powerful man who has spent years climbing his way into the Miami underworld. He won’t let go of his position and he won’t let go of me.”

She flipped her hand over and showed him the scar on the back then lifted her eyes to see his reaction. Fiery rage lit his gaze as he stared hard at the shiny, raised “H” before meeting her eyes. “Ownership,” she told him in a shaky voice. “He will hunt me to the ends of the Earth.”

He said nothing for a moment, but when he spoke, his voice was filled with such fury that she wished she had more room behind her so she could take a step back. “You think I would let him?”

Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head again, dropping her hand in despair. “I think it’s my duty to go back to him no matter what, Reyes,” she said in a quivering voice. “We’ve been over this and I just don’t think I can do it with you again.” She turned away from him and reached for the door.

He grabbed her from behind and shoved her into the door, pushing her until she was flush against the wooden panel with him hard at her back. He leaned in and growled in her ear, “You go when I tell you to go, nena. Never before.”

He swung her around and pushed her shoulders back against the door. Before she could beg him to leave her alone he crushed her lips with his own, stealing the words from her. She sobbed into his mouth, accepting the hot embrace with despairing enthusiasm. A moan escaped her and she gripped his arms tightly, holding onto him while he shoved himself hard against her, knocking her hips and ass back into the door.

He didn’t give her a chance to reject him, shoving his tongue into her mouth and sweeping the recesses within, memorizing her, feeling her. He gripped her jaw and held her open for his dark caress, while his other hand swept her body, both holding her to him and testing her softness. Casey tried to still herself beneath the scorching heat of his caress, but her body clamored for attention, seeking the warmth he was providing. She arched into each sweep of his hand and began to enthusiastically meet each sweep of his tongue with tiny caresses of her own.

He pulled back just enough to mumble, “Fucking caliente, Casey,” against her lips, before devouring her once more. His hand dropped to the edge of her skirt and yanked upward, bunching it to her waist. She cried out against his mouth, but he swallowed the sound in another hard kiss.

“It’s okay, nena,” he murmured soothingly against her lips.

She whimpered as he tore her panties aside and pushed long fingers unexpectedly deep into her pussy. She widened her legs to ease the pressure, but he took advantage by pushing further up into her body. The breath shuddered out of her and she gripped his arms so hard she thought she might leave bruises. She knew she was embarrassingly wet for him. He did this to her. He made her body drip just for him. She’d never been this way before. Oh, she’d been turned on before. Usually alone in her room reading erotic romance novels or watching sexy movies, but nothing like this.

Then he flicked his thumb across her clit and she thought she was going to die. She flung her head back against the door, knocking the back of her head into the wood and closed her eyes tight. “Stop,” she whispered.

“No fucking way, not until you’re mine,” he snarled, leaning against her to bite into her shoulder. He shoved his fingers impossibly deeper into her. She knew she was going to be sore after this, but… fuck… it felt so good.

“Please… I don’t want to do this,” she whimpered.

He snarled something in Spanish so rapid and so vile she didn’t quite catch it. Reyes pulled his fingers from her body with a suddenness that left her gasping, then he shoved his fingers into her mouth and swirled them around her tongue and teeth, forcing her to taste herself. When she would have turned her face away he gripped her jaw hard, leaned in and shoved his fingers in and out of her mouth a few times.

“Taste what I do to you, Casey,” he growled, his dark eyes so wild she thought he was on the razor’s edge of violence. “We both know he doesn’t fucking do this for you.”

Then he leaned in to kiss her, shoving his tongue in her mouth, stretching her lips and joining his fingers to taste her. She moaned at the eroticism of the act and wrapped her tongue around his fingers. The kiss went on and on until she finally pulled back blinking rapidly. She turned her head sharply to the side, pushing his hand away. The moment was so intense it brought tears to her eyes. She’d gone years without crying over a man, yet somehow this man brought her to tears over and over in a matter of weeks. It was like he’d broken something inside her. Or maybe he was shaking up the already broken pieces.

A sob escaped her lips and she whispered against him, “Please, Reyes, please just push me away. I’m not strong enough for this. Tell me to fuck off before I break my vows. If you take away that part of me… I’ll have nothing left of myself. J-just make me go.” She clung to him, digging her nails into his flesh. She blinked rapidly and stared at her hand on his arm. Even though she couldn’t see colours she could see that her skin was light against his.

He looked at her for a moment, debating whether or not to continue, knowing he could easily fuck her up against the door and she wouldn’t murmur a single protest. But he also knew that if he did that, he would be taking something from her. Something extremely valuable. So, instead he pushed himself away, slamming a hand over her shoulder next to her head. She flinched, but stood still, breathing heavily. After a moment, he dropped his hand to the lock and twisted it. He pulled her back, smoothed her skirt down her body, opened the door and pushed her through with a growled, “Go.”

Casey ran into the corridor without looking back. She refused to turn around as she heard Reyes leave the washroom and stride away from her. Elvira rushed quickly toward her from the other direction and reached for Casey’s arm, steadying her. “Everything okay, hon?” she asked, her voice sharp with concern. She glanced behind Casey as though expecting to see someone in the shadows.

Casey nodded swiftly and lifted a hand toward her hair. Elvira reached up and tucked a few strands behind Casey’s ear with swift efficiency. “You look beautiful. Don’t worry that the bitch squad’ll think anything’s wrong. They don’t have time for anything but their own selfish selves anyway.”

Casey laughed shakily. “Thanks, Elvira.”

“Come on. Let’s go get a drink in the lobby bar,” she murmured huskily, linking arms with Casey and pulling her toward the front of the restaurant.

Casey glanced back toward the Tuesday table. “Won’t they miss us?”

“Who the fuck cares,” Elvira said. “I’m more interested in hearing what kind of wild animal attacked you in the washroom and where I find can one of those.”

Casey laughed, beginning to feel some of her tension ease and allowed the older woman to pull her toward the bar.

13

“Where are they…?” Casey mumbled, rummaging through the drawer in her washroom. She could barely see through the terrible throbbing behind her eye socket. She’d crawled from her bed to the toilet several minutes earlier where she’d emptied her stomach. Now that the horrific nausea had passed she was searching for the migraine pills Ignacio’s doctor had given her. Sometimes they worked and sometimes they didn’t.

Her hand closed over the box and she pulled it out with a relieved sigh. She collapsed sideways onto the bath mat and lay still for a few seconds, one hand clutching the small white box and the other pressed tight against the side of her head. Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks. She bit back sobs of pain, knowing they would only echo in the small space around her and make the throbbing in her skull that much worse.

She cringed when something thumped against the washroom window and a loud howling sound heralded an end-of-summer Florida storm. She hadn’t realized one was coming, but if her head was any indication, it was going to be brutal. Sometimes she got really bad migraines when the weather was stormy. She wondered if they were due for a tropical storm or worse. She’d been so preoccupied with Ignacio’s and Reyes’ drama that she hadn’t been paying any attention to the news.

When she finally managed to get her breathing under control, she squinted her eyes at the packaging in her hand and used the dim light from a lamp in her bedroom to peel back the foil. With shaking fingers, she pushed the pill into her mouth and used her tongue to press it against the top of her mouth where it slowly dissolved. She’d already taken several Tylenols and one Advil. They hadn’t lessened the pain and anything that hadn’t yet broken down in her stomach had been thrown up a few minutes ago. She knew from the intensity of the headache that she was past the point of over-the-counter pain meds helping her now anyway. She would just have to wait this one out.

Casey slowly pushed herself up onto shaking hands and knees. Whimpers of pain escaped her and she nearly collapsed back onto her side. She leaned forward for a minute, pressing her forehead into the cradle of her arms for relief. She used her the back of her hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks before pushing herself back up and taking several deep breaths. Fuck, it even hurt to breath. She was fast approaching the point where she was going to curl up in a ball wherever she landed and just cry and beg for death until the migraine passed. She just wanted to make it to the bed before that happened so she could wake up on the other side of this bitch in relative comfort.

“Casey,” a deep voice reached softly out to her.

She cried out, startled and then nearly vomited from the sudden movement. She slammed her swollen eyelids shut and took several gasping breaths as she tried to control the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her once more. After a few more moments, she was able to peel her eyes open into slits and see the man crouched in front of her. Alonzo was looking at her with that usual mix of resigned concern. He was used to these godawful headaches.

“Crawl to me, Casey,” he said patiently. “I’ll help you get into the bed.”

They both knew he wouldn’t touch her. He never touched her because he always followed Ignacio’s instructions to the letter. But he would help her as best he could. Some small part of him cared about the frail mistress he’d been tasked to care for over the years. Slowly she did as he bid her and began to crawl painfully toward him, biting back a moan. He coaxed her with gentle words of encouragement until they reached the bed where she was forced to pull herself up before collapsing onto her side.

He leaned over her placing his beefy arms next to her and asked, “How many pills did you take, Casey?”

She closed her eyes and whispered, “Not many. Three maybe.”

It was the truth as far as she could remember, but they both knew he didn’t believe her. Because she’d lied to him once in the past and almost managed to kill herself. Plus, she had a tendency to forget how many pills she took or how often she took them when her head hurt this bad. She heard him sigh and move away from her. Then she heard him run a glass of water before returning to the bed.

“Sit up and take this,” he urged her.

She knew what Alonzo was giving her. “I don’t want it,” she told him. She’d promised Reyes she wouldn’t take any more sleeping pills. A tiny sob escaped her as a fierce longing hit her hard in the chest. She wanted him with her so badly it took her breath away. She desperately needed his comfort, the savage protectiveness he seemed to feel toward her.

“You don’t have a choice, Casey. Bosses orders. When you hurt like this you take the pills,” Alonzo said, his voice hardening. “Now sit up and take the pill.”

There was no point in arguing. If she resisted Alonzo he would tell Ignacio and she would have to deal with her husband’s anger and possibly a punishment. Which she absolutely couldn’t handle in this weakened state. She pushed herself up into a semi-sitting position and reached for the pill and water, taking both from him.

“Thank you,” she murmured and tried to palm the pill instead of putting it in her mouth.

Of course, she didn’t fool his sharp eyes. Not when she was half blind and clumsy in her agony. He caught her hand, touching her for the first time in years. She gasped and tried to pull away from him, but he held tight. She forced herself to look at him, trepidation clear in her pain-dulled eyes. His dark, remorseless gaze met hers without flinching.

“You need to take the pill, Casey,” he said in an even voice.

Her heart pounded in her chest, the blood in her head throbbing in tandem. She swallowed hard, trying desperately not to throw up on her lovely bedspread. Slowly he pried her fingers open, pulled the smooth, round pill from her hand and lifted it to her lips. She opened her mouth and let him feed her the sleeping pill. She had no choice. She could fight him, but she was in too much pain and she wouldn’t win. If Alonzo was willing to touch her to get her to take the pill then something significant had changed in their relationship.

He wrapped his hand around hers over the water glass and lifted it to her lips, urging her to take a drink. She sipped, swallowing both the water and the pill. Tears leaked from her eyes. She’d tried to keep her promise to Reyes. She’d wanted to, but she wasn’t strong enough.

Alonzo took her jaw in his giant hand and squeezed, forcing her mouth open so he could see for himself that she’d swallowed the pill. She was too frightened, too overwhelmed by the meaning of his touch to protest. Nodding, satisfied, he let her go, took the glass from her and set it on her night table, then he drew the covers back and waited for her to slide under. He treated her as though she were a child, with careful efficiency. But she felt more from him than she had before. She felt something that made her heart stutter in her chest. He was allowing himself closer access to her than he’d ever allowed in the past. He’d always kept that careful distance. She was never entirely sure why. She suspected it was partly to keep himself safe from Ignacio’s wrath and to keep his post as her bodyguard. To make sure he wasn’t replaced with someone else.

She kept her eyes on him, watching his every move as he pulled the quilt back up her body and tucked it lightly around her. She tried hard not to flinch away from him when he ran his knuckles down her cheek; she was so used to him never touching her. She simply couldn’t wrap her head around why he was suddenly touching her now. He reached over and flicked the lamp off, throwing her bedroom into shadows except for the dim lighting from outside her bedroom, caused by lanterns from the patio leaking in from outside her window. The throbbing in her head eased slightly and she let out a grateful sigh.

She stared after him as he moved in the darkness to sit on her vanity chair and face the bed. He bent so his elbows were on his knees and he watched her. He’d done this in the past. Watched over her when she had a migraine and he didn’t trust her word on how much medication she’d taken. Somehow, she thought this was different. She felt he was watching and waiting for her to fall asleep. He was waiting for something.

She desperately wanted to stay awake. She didn’t trust those eyes, gleaming black in the darkness. Her head pounded in rhythm with the outside elements, battering her bedroom window with stormy fury. She couldn’t seem to stop the waves of fatigue from overtaking her and gradually her eyelashes fluttered shut, no matter how hard she urged them not to. As she finally succumbed to a deep, unnatural sleep she wondered if the man watching over her was her friend or her enemy.

14

Casey wasn’t sure exactly what woke her up, but she was suddenly awake and in the middle of Armageddon. Her head was throbbing so viciously her first thought was that someone had embedded an axe in her skull while she was sleeping, which was both unrealistic and not a very nice thing for her imaginary attacker to do. Then she registered the dull sound of bullets and men shouting, though the sounds were coming from a distance. Next, it occurred to her that she was in someone’s arms and that the someone holding her was running at top speed through the downstairs corridor of her home.

Casey forced her eyes open, but piercing light penetrated her sensitive vision throwing a shard of imaginary glass straight through her already splitting brain. She let out a strangled scream and automatically clutched at whomever was carrying her and buried her face in his broad chest. His arms tightened around her as he ran. She heard his harsh breathing thundering above her head and felt his heart thump against the side of her face. She wondered if it would be impolite to ask him to either put her down and let her die in peace or to stop breathing and beating so loudly until her migraine had passed.

Then something exploded next to them and she felt fire rip down her arm as shards of marble flew through the hallway they were running down. A trickle of blood ran down the back of her arm and dripped off her elbow. Casey whimpered quietly and held onto for dear life. She was certain now that it was her Alonzo who was carrying her. He swore, shifted her against his side, allowing her legs to slide to the floor and reached for his gun holster.

Casey clutched him, attempting to hold herself upright while he covered them and edged around a corner holding Casey tight against his solid body. Her legs refused to hold her up and every time she closed her eyes fatigue threatened to overtake her. Why the fuck had he forced her to take that sleeping pill? It was going to get them both killed because she couldn’t even work her own damn legs. Slowly she sank to the floor, her knees bending under her weight, her eyes firmly closed against the light and her fingers clinging desperately to Alonzo’s shirt. He kept one hand on the top of her head while she huddled against his legs.

Alonzo shot down the corridor a few times then scooped Casey back up in his arms and began running toward the back of the house again. They raced out the back door so fast the door banged against the side of the house shattering the glass in the window next to it. The driving rain from the raging storm pelted down on them, soaking Casey in a matter of seconds. Alonzo didn’t slow down. He flung Casey over his broad shoulder where she was forced to brace herself against him if she didn’t want her already intensely splitting head to bang against his back. She lifted her face and tried to see through the fall of her tangled hair, the pouring rain and howling wind, but it was a blur. She had no idea how Alonzo knew where they were going and prayed they didn’t end up in the pool. She was pretty sure she would happily drown right at this exact moment.

Alonzo crashed through another door and straight into the pool house smashing into the far wall. The entire structure shuddered under his weight. He’d turned before hitting the wall, taking most of the hit against his shoulder, but her head jarred so badly that Casey felt bile rise up in her throat and had to swallow several times so she wouldn’t throw up on him. She clung weakly to his soaked shirt as he strode through the pool house with her still slung across his back. She wondered what his plan was, there were no other exits that she knew of, when he crouched on the concrete and set her down. She moaned and curled onto her side, holding her head with both hands.

Casey watched as Alonzo used his bulk to move a massive shelf holding soft white towels and shoving it aside. She curled tighter into herself as it crashed sideways, smashing into the wall across from them, littering the floor with towels. Without pausing he reached down and wrenched open a trap door in the floor. Casey stared in open-mouthed astonishment. She had no idea there was an escape route in or around the mansion. She supposed it made sense though.

When Alonzo reached for her she went eagerly into his arms, recognizing now that he was trying to get them the hell out of whatever shit-storm was raining down upon Ignacio’s head. And while Casey was smart enough to know exactly who was storming the compound, intent on killing her husband, she didn’t have the capacity to work out her own part in Reyes’ plan. She felt better off going with Alonzo and working out the rest later.

Alonzo scooped her up and plunged them through the darkness of the hole in the floor of the pool house. Casey hid her face against his shoulder, crying out when his feet hid solid ground and her head smacked into him. She knew it was a shallow wish, considering men were dying all around them, but she wanted her head to stop fucking hurting until they were safely away from the danger so she could just think straight.

Alonzo strode easily through the damp darkness of the underground tunnel with Casey held firmly in his arms. He seemed to know exactly where they were going. Silence surrounded them now that they were away from the mansion. She desperately hoped he was taking her to a car where they could drive away from the deadly chaos aboveground. Where they could wait out the storm until news of its outcome trickled their way and she was able to figure out what to do next.

Casey expected them to continue until they emerged from the tunnel but the eerie echo of Alonzo’s shoes dully hitting the rough concrete abruptly ceased. He stood still in the darkness holding her, his breaths puffing in and out of his mouth above her head. Casey tilted her face back and tried to see him in the inky darkness, but she couldn’t see a thing. Her skin felt icy and shivers wracked her body.

“Al-lonzo…” she whispered. “Wh-where are we?”

“End of the line,” he whispered back.

He crouched to set her down and she stiffened expecting to feel the hard impact of concrete, but was relieved when she felt the softness of a blanket against her body. She heard him reach for something in the darkness and sat in confused silence until a bright light flared up in front of her. She flinched and closed her eyes against the sudden glare and the stab of pain it created in her skull. She squinted and realized he was lighting candles. After a moment, as her eyes adjusted, she was able to open them and look around. She let out a moan of despair. They were in a room with no exit. He wasn’t trying to escape the carnage happening in the mansion, he had just relocated them.

Then, as she continued to search the room, despair turned gradually to confused fright. Not only was she sitting on top of a blanket, but she was surrounded by rose petals. Hundreds of rose petals. She tried to force her throbbing, drugged brain to work through the problem at hand and what she was starting to suspect was a horrible truth. Finally, she turned pleading eyes up to the man that had been her bodyguard for almost a decade.

“It was you?” she whispered.

He nodded, his dark eyes bleak in the flickering light of the candles. “That Bolivian guy sent you the roses. I took the opportunity to finally show you how I felt with the petals. It was as close as I could get to touching you.”

“Why?” she whispered, the word torn from her as though it hurt to ask. They’d known each other for many years. Had spent nearly every day of every one of those years together, yet never once had he indicated that he thought of her as more than an annoying child-like mistress of the manor.

He laughed grimly. “Knew our time was coming to an end. That Ignacio was about to give the order. Wanted the chance to tell you how I felt, even if you didn’t know it was me.”

“Alonzo…” she breathed, her heart breaking a little. How long had he felt that way? Maybe he was as fucked up as she was. “What order, Alonzo?” she asked, trepidation speeding the blood in her veins, making her head pound even harder in both pain and fear.

His terrible gaze told her everything she needed to know, a mixture of resignation, pity and love. “You know what order, Casey. His orders must always be followed. We both know that.”

She shook her head, a sob crawling up her throat and escaping her lips. “No, Alonzo, they don’t need to be followed, not this one. We can leave here together, try to run away. What if Reyes takes him out? Then he’ll never know that you didn’t follow this order. We can slip away during the fight, he’ll never, ever know.”

Alonzo just stared at her until she knew she was begging in vain. He wasn’t going to save her. He was as broken as she was. Maybe worse. He was a soldier incapable of ignoring the orders of his superior officer. Either that or he truly believed she was better off dead and he thought he was doing her a favour. Tears trailed down her pale cheeks and more sobs leapt up her throat. His gaze turned truly agonized as he watched her cry. This was the most emotion she’d ever seen from him.

“Please don’t cry, Casey,” he said, reaching out to brush the tears from her cheeks. “Trying to make this special for us. You won’t be alone. I love you too much to let you go by yourself, baby. I’ll be there the whole way and then I’ll follow you into the other side so we can always be together.”

She stared at him in horror as she realized what he was saying and then her stomach lurched. Murder-suicide. He was going to kill her and then kill himself. Her teeth chattered as she begged for mercy for both of them, “Alonzo, d-don’t do this. Please just think about it! P-please, for the love of god!”

“Shh, baby, it’ll be fine. Just lay back and rest,” he told her huskily and pressed her shoulders until she was forced to lay back on the blanket.

Casey let out a small scream and tried to fight him, surging up against him, but he easily held her down. “No, no, Alonzo, just listen to me!” she cried out hysterically, almost blind from the pain rising up in her head.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Casey, baby,” he said soothingly crawling over top of her and pinning her down with his big body. He gripped her throat and squeezed until the breath left her lungs and she was forced to stop fighting him. She let her fingers rest on his arm, but she stopped thrashing. She just pleaded with her eyes, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference.

“It’s okay, love,” he said gently, sitting over top of her, making sure he wasn’t crushing her with his weight. She wanted to laugh at the ridiculous concession. He was practically strangling her and about to murder her, but he wanted to make sure she was comfortable while he fucking killed her! “It’s time. You’ve been in pain for so long, drifting along like a petal in the breeze. Never knowing where to land. I’m going to carry you home in my arms. We’ll go together.”

She really wanted to tell him that he sounded like a psychopath, but thought it wasn’t the best time to mouth off while his hands were wrapped around her fragile neck and he was talking poetically about murdering her. “Just close your eyes, baby, and let the sleeping pill take hold again. Just drift back to sleep and I’ll take care of everything.”

A bitter laugh escaped her throat and she rolled her eyes. Because she was definitely going back to sleep under these circumstances. Her skimpy clothes were soaked through and she was in some kind of underground hideout with a splitting headache while a gun battle raged above. Oh yeah, and the guy she was hiding out with planned on offing her as soon as she closed her eyes. Then he made things even better by pulling his gun from the holster at his side and pressing it against the side of her head. The laughter died on her lips and she knew that this was it, she was about to die. Would their bodies ever be found or would they just rot here in this dingy room somewhere underneath the garage or the pool house?

“I’ve always loved you, Casey. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better man for you,” Alonzo said, his voice taking on a tortured edge. He leaned down and pressed his cool lips to hers.

15

“Well this is touching,” a voice drawled out of the darkness.

Alonzo jerked back from Casey bringing his gun arm up, exactly as the voice had been hoping. The moment his head was clear of hers and his gun away from her head a shot rang out. Casey screamed as blood sprayed across her chest and face, soaking her in in its sticky wetness. The noise of the gun echoed through her head and she nearly passed out from the agony it caused. She flung an arm across her face and moaned. Dead weight fell across her legs and she couldn’t restrain another hoarse cry from escaping her lips.

“Alonzo?” she whispered tentatively, moving her arm away from her face and searching for movement in the shadowy lump across her legs.

“He’s dead,” Diego’s cold voice reached out of the darkness, and she flinched as he drew nearer to her. Terror welled up, as a boot came out of the shadows and shoved Alonzo off of her. “Or didn’t you feel his brain splatter all over you?”

“Oh god, oh my god!” Casey muttered, panic swelling. She scrambled backwards, crawling rapidly away from Alonzo’s dead body. Once she was a few feet away she started clawing at her own chest and face looking for bits of brain and skull.

She watched in horror as Diego crouched in front of her, his face visible now in the flickering candlelight. His lips stretched in a ghoulish grin as he watched in sadistic amusement while she frantically wiped at the blood on her face, whimpers erupting from her trembling lips. Finally, her head got the better of her and brains or not, blood or not, she turned on the spot and began heaving, her fingers digging into on the concrete. Her stomach was already empty so she could do nothing but vomit a little bit of saliva and stomach acid, burning her mouth and throat as it came up.

She scraped her knees on the ground, pulling them into her chest in an attempt to curl in on herself. After a moment, the godawful heaving stopped and she dropped her head onto her knees, the tangles of her hair falling around her. Then she felt Diego’s hands slide up her back and curve over her shoulders. She curled harder into herself as shudders wracked her trembling body and stinging tears straggled down her cheeks. She pulled in choking gasps of breath, attempting to force her burning lungs to work.

She tried to shrug Diego’s vile touch off, but he just leaned over her, his hot breath in her ear. “While I wish we had more time down here, the boss is waiting. Time to go, princess.”

He stood up behind her, dragging her to her feet with a firm hand around her arm. Casey’s legs refused to hold her weight and she immediately buckled, collapsing against Diego. He grunted in annoyance and looped an arm across her back, hauling her up against him. Though she hated the idea of needing his assistance she clutched his shirt with the last reserves of her meagre strength and leaned against him. She comforted herself with the thought that she had no other choice. He was taking her back to Ignacio and she’d much rather go to her husband alive than dead, which had clearly been Alonzo’s crazy plan. And since it appeared Diego had no intention of killing her, she was happy to go with him for now.

“Okay, let’s go,” she whispered.

She shuffled alongside him as best she could, trying to match his longer strides as he strode down the chilly, damp corridor back toward the entrance to the pool house. Now that she felt safe the effects of the sleeping pill began to overwhelm her once more and waves of fatigue swept over her. She smothered a yawn with her other hand and then gagged when the taste of blood touched her lips. Alonzo’s blood.

She fought back fresh tears and didn’t see clearly when they reached the end of the tunnel and Diego stopped abruptly, she swayed against him and was forced to grab him with both hands to stop herself from falling. He looked at her sharply and snorted in disgust before reaching for her waist and shoving her unceremoniously through the trapdoor leading up into the pool house. She tried to help by gripping the floorboards and pulling herself through, but she was too weak from the pills and the trauma. Finally, he ended up gripping her by the legs and just shoving her the rest of the way through. She lay on the ground panting and waiting for him to pull himself up alongside her.

Casey groaned when he didn’t even give her two seconds to gather herself, but just reached over and scooped her up like she was some kind of wet noodle. She tried to protest when he didn’t bother to set her back on her feet, but strode through the open door of the pool house and into the pouring rain with her in his arms. Her words were stolen in the fury of the storm and she was forced to turn her face into the shelter of his chest.

They made it through the shattered back door of the house where Diego finally set her back on her feet. Before she knew what was happening he gripped her by the shoulders and pushed her into the wall, holding her upright. “You’re gonna want to pull yourself together before you see him. Make a good impression, babe.”

She frowned at Diego as he used the edge of his shirt to roughly scrub at her face and neck. She assumed he was trying to get some of the blood off of her skin. The rough fabric abraded her skin and she flinched back from his callous treatment. She could see streaks coming away on his striped shirt and knew his ministrations must be working.

“Good enough,” he mumbled, shoving his shirt down and grabbing her roughly by the arm.

“Why do I need to make a good impression?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

He ignored her and tugged her down the hallway, yanking her hard when she would have stumbled and fallen. She started to go down, her fingertips touching the hard marble but he pulled her back up and swung her around the corner. Casey lurched and narrowly avoided stepping on the dead body of one of her husband’s most trusted bodyguards.

“Oh!” she cried out shrinking back against Diego who didn’t slow down to absorb her shock. That was the first inkling she had that her husband maybe hadn’t won the takeover battle.

Diego banged his fist against the door, waiting a few heartbeats for the cold, sharp summons that was most definitely not the voice of her husband. Casey’s body felt hot and numb all at once as Diego pushed the door open and shoved her through, forcing her to stand face to face with the man that had promised he would come for her.

Diego dropped his hand, removing the physical support she so desperately needed. She swayed on the spot, her eyes glued to the dark, foreboding figure standing next to Ignacio’s desk, taller and more imposing in Ignacio’s office than her husband had ever been. She took a few measured breaths, forcing her frozen lungs to work, sipping air properly so her head wouldn’t explode in pain again and disgrace her during this vital moment.

“Come here, Casey,” Reyes said coldly.

She approached him warily, her legs moving mechanically as she rounded the side of the desk before stopping a few feet from him. He didn’t touch her, just watched her every stumbling move with the sharpness of a predator. Casey turned when she heard a rough choking sound. Reyes obliged by stepping out of the way. She cried out in dismay and slapped a hand over her mouth. Ignacio lay on the floor of his own office, bloody and beaten, one of his knees completely shattered from a bullet wound at close range. She tried to rush toward him, but Diego, who had come up behind her, caught her arm and held her back. She finally looked around the office and noticed that a few of Reyes men were present, including his second-in-command, Alejandro. All held the dead, stony looks on their faces that she knew so well. Ignacio was well and truly defeated.

Reyes watched her with icy indifference as she tried to control her emotions. To sort through the bewilderment of having her home overrun in such a violent and ruthless manner. He stood in front of her and looked her over as though she were a stranger, as though he were surveying a piece of furniture he’d won during the takeover. She wished desperately that she was wearing more than a pair of soaked, bedraggled and bloody, probably see-through cotton shorts and tank top. By now her hair was such a tangled mess she wasn’t sure if it was even salvageable or if she should just shave it off and start over. She was pretty sure there was blood and possibly vomit in the tangled ends of her hair. She forced her shoulders back, tilted her chin and glared at him.

His dark gaze moved past her and he said coldly to Diego, “She’s filthy. There’s blood all over her.”

“She was exactly where Ignacio said she would be. Underneath the pool house with her bodyguard,” Diego informed Reyes. “Alonzo was about to kill her, just like Hernandez admitted. I took care of the bodyguard, but he was crouched over top of her when I did it.”

Casey’s eyes flew to Ignacio, but he refused to meet her eyes. So, he had given the order for Alonzo to kill her when the mansion was overrun. And judging from the state of him, Reyes had tortured the information out of him. Casey sagged back against Diego and lifted a hand against the side of her head, the never-ending headache from hell thumping away demanding her attention.

Reyes eyes followed the movement, but his face remained dispassionate. She guessed he was doing his job. Or he never really cared about her and she was about to die with her husband. Maybe he would make it quick. At least my head will finally stop hurting, she thought with grim resignation.

She gathered as much courage as she could manage and asked in a faltering voice, “Wh-what happens now? Are you going to kill us?”

Reyes expression grew sharp, his gaze taking in her skimpy, soaked outfit, the blood splattered across her chest and neck and the wild tangle of her long blond hair. She must look like some kind of insane asylum escapee that went on a murderous rampage. But the sudden hunger in his gaze told her otherwise. Told her he’d never found her more desirable… or closer within his grasp. She shuddered, her body heating under that look while her heart iced over at the terrible implications of how their union was coming about.

“I told you how this was going to go, nena,” he told her slowly. “You even warned your stupid fuck of a husband. Not my fault that he chose not to listen. Chose not to run and hide like he should have. Though I would have found him anyway, crushed him like the bug he is and stole his beautiful queen. Now he dies.” Reyes strode to her, picked up her hand and kissed the “H” on the back, flicking his tongue against the scar. Then he turned icy dark eyes on Ignacio. “And we go home.”

Ignacio made a pathetic sound. She thought maybe it was supposed to emulate rage, but came out somewhere around pain and fear. A rush of unexpected pity rose up in Casey and, despite the years of loathing and hatred that stood between her and her husband, she reached out to grasp Reyes arm. She’d been with Ignacio for ten years. He’d rescued her from the hospital after her family was killed and given her a life filled with beautiful things. And yes, while he’d often been cruel, maybe he hadn’t known any other way. He was still a human being, she still had to try to save his life.

“Please don’t kill him!” she begged. “This isn’t right, Reyes. Please don’t kill my husband. If you care about me at all, let me take him away from here. You’ll never hear from us again. We’ll go far away and you can take Miami, I promise. We won’t interfere.”

Reyes stared down at her, his face devoid of any emotion. He dropped her hand and pushed her away. With that one look he made it clear, this was business and she wasn’t wanted. She wasn’t allowed an opinion and she most certainly would not be allowed to interfere. He nodded at Diego. “Take her. Let her pack whatever she wants to take with her.” He moved his malevolent gaze to Ignacio who’d moved his bloody, broken body against the far wall. “We leave in three hours.”

Diego wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her, unnecessarily hard, toward the door. Casey fought him with the little strength she had left in her. “Please, Reyes, don’t do this!” she cried out. “If you do this, I won’t go with you. I’ll fight you, you’ll never truly have me!”

Reyes swung around to look at her just as Diego dragged her through the door, his dark brown eyes pinning her, marking her. “Wrong, nena. I take what I want and I just took you.”

The door slammed shut between them.

16

“Fuck you, Diego,” Casey hissed when Diego opened her bedroom door and threw her inside. She went flying through the door and luckily was able to catch herself against the bed post before she hit the floor.

She turned toward him in time to see him stalking toward her. She tried to cringe back against the bed, but he was on top of her before she could roll away from him. He gripped her arms and swung her further into the mattress.

“You’re lucky we don’t have much time and this place is crawling with the Bolivian’s men or I would show you exactly how good I can fuck you, Casey,” he snarled in her face. “Maybe when he gets sick of your scrawny ass I’ll let you crawl back here to lick my boots and eat my table scraps like the bitch you are.”

She wanted to scream and rage at him, but she knew she couldn’t. Knew she was in a precarious position. Diego was a sadist who thrived on the pain of lesser creatures. He would love to take her and break her down to nothing. She stared up at him, knowing it was the only power she had. Diego was superstitious and as much as he’d always loved her body and enjoyed hurting her he despised her different coloured eyes. They creeped him out. Sure enough, he looked away from her in a matter of seconds.

“Stupid bitch,” he mumbled, climbing off her. “Pack your fucking bags so I can get rid of you.”

Diego rolled off the bed, strode away from her and slammed the door shut with a warning of “three hours” tossed over his shoulder. Casey ignored him, pulling her legs up to her chest with a moan. She dropped her head onto her knees and finally allowed the fatigue she’d been battling with all night to overtake her. Intense shakes swept over her tired, beaten body. She found enough energy to lift an arm and tug her thick quilt over herself, burrowing into some desperately needed warmth for the first time in what felt like days, even though barely an hour had passed.

She stared sightlessly, her mind blessedly blank. She simply couldn’t process. Her brain never really functioned properly anyway. Since the car accident, the whirlwind marriage that followed, and the barrage of medications, she was able to drift in a world of her own, especially when she was experiencing a particularly vicious headache. And now that she was in shock she thought she had even more of an excuse to check out.

Casey wasn’t sure how long she lay there but her shakes gradually subsided and she became aware of the uncomfortable sensation of laying in a giant wet spot on her bed. Finally, she pushed herself up on wobbly arms and sat up of the edge of her bed. She tried to force the gears in her numb brain to work, decide what to do first. It was easier to concentrate since she’d gradually stopped taking her some of her meds, the ones she knew weren’t for pain, over the past few weeks. She was less fuzzy. Maybe forty-five minutes had passed since Diego had left the room, but she wasn’t sure. The concept of time was eluding her right now.

For one wild moment, she thought seriously about fleeing. Attempting to get to get to one of the cars and driving as far and as fast as she could. She could start a new life. Become a whole new person, uncorrupted by this type of life. One that was untainted by bodies, blood and men that wanted to control her every move. She glanced down at her chest and the blood stains covering her top. Then she sighed heavily and rubbed her forehead. How far would she get? Two steps maybe, if she tried to go out her bedroom door, and probably as far as a broken neck if she tried the window. She already knew that path was useless. Ignacio had ensured that. So, what now?

What would Elvira Montana do? She was an honest to goodness mafia wife and probably the closest thing to a friend Casey had. What would she do if she’d just survived a takeover bid by hostile forces?

“She’d probably be nose deep in her own product,” Casey said out loud and then laughed bitterly. “Aren’t I the judgmental bitch.” She looked down at her bloodied clothes. “Okay Elvira, I don’t have any coke, but I do have the next best thing.”

She stood on aching feet and winced, feeling the bruises and cuts from running barefoot through battle zones and underground tunnels. She lurched toward her makeup table and opened the drawer, pulling out a bottle of rum that had been a gift to her from one of Ignacio’s Cuban business partners. She flinched at the thought of what was happening to him in his office and then quickly forced her brain away from the grisly thought. She unscrewed the cap, lifted the bottle and took a long drink allowing the liquid freedom to slide and burn down her throat until she was coughing and spitting it up.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “Elvira would probably call this amateur hour.”

She waited a beat and then tilted the bottle again, downing another shot. She didn’t stop until she felt some heat in her belly and the paralyzing numbness that had dogged her since seeing Reyes standing in Ignacio’s office begin to subside. She swiped at the tears that suddenly appeared on her cheeks, she wasn’t sure where they’d come from. Either the sting from the alcohol had caused them… or maybe they’d never stopped.

“Now what, Mrs. Montana?” she asked her imaginary friend. She took a look at her haggard, bedraggled appearance in the vanity mirror and answered her own question. “A shower, Mrs. Hernandez. The etiquette guide says you must always look your best when you find yourself viciously widowed and about to be kidnapped all in the same evening.”

She grabbed the rum bottle by the neck and made her way painfully to the washroom. She stripped off her damp, bloody clothes and crawled into the shower with the bottle clutched against her chest. She hissed in pain when the water spray hit the shallow cut on the back of her arm. She sat on the floor of the shower stall, drinking straight from the bottle and scrubbing blood and dirt from her skin while tears poured faster and faster down her face until finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. She curled up on her side and sobbed for all she was worth. She cried because she’d lost her loyal bodyguard and it left a jagged hole in her heart. He’d been a constant in her life for so many years, taken care of her when her husband should have but didn’t, and though he was messed up in the head, Alonzo had loved her in his own way.

And even though he didn’t deserve her tears, she cried because her husband of ten years was being horrifically and painfully murdered under the roof that they had lived, but not loved, together and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. He was being tortured by the man she thought she could have feelings for, but now she didn’t think that was possible because Reyes was staining his hands with Ignacio’s blood, ensuring she would forever hate the sight of him. How could she possibly love a man that showed no mercy when she’d begged him so pathetically to spare her husband in a room full of his own people? He said he wanted to make her queen, but threw her out like garbage.

Fuck him.

Finally, after her tears ran out and the water became cold she dragged herself out. She took another set of pills for her headache, which thank goodness had subsided to a dull throb. With a short laugh and another nod to Elvira, she washed the pills down with another shot of rum. Then she changed into a white silk robe and began packing a suitcase with the few things she wanted to take with her.

There weren’t many things Casey loved enough to want to keep. She had a few keepsakes from her family. Some pictures and small items that held memories. She had her parents wedding bands and marriage certificate. It always seemed strange and inexplicable to her that there wasn’t anything more left of her family, but Ignacio had insisted that the estate and everything in it had been sold after their deaths to pay off her parent’s debts. He’d become angry when she’d pressed for more details and, at the time, she hadn’t been in any condition to push the subject.

Casey added the few gifts Reyes had given her to the suitcase as well. She hastily tossed some clothes and shoes on top, not wanting to examine too closely why she wanted to keep his gifts. She knew she should get dressed and wait for someone to come fetch her but her eyelids were drooping, a combination of the residual sleeping pill and the near constant adrenalin rush of the evening. She settled on the bed with a yawn, away from the wet spot she’d created earlier, and was instantly sleep.

She wasn’t sure how long she slept for, but she felt his presence before his touch. It was like the heat of his regard woke her. Like the warm rush of a blanket being pulled over her body and tucked around her. She opened her eyes and rolled into her side to look at him. He was gazing down at her, the burning heat that was missing in his eyes before in Ignacio’s office now present in full force. She couldn’t help the slight smile that curved her lips before memory rushed in on her and happiness faded away.

Her eyes fell to his hand as he caressed her hip. His hand was covered in dried blood. Her husband’s blood. Her heart beat faster and she froze. “Reyes...” she whispered.

He looked down at her, his dark eyes so filled with triumph and need that she knew there would be no pleading or begging him. Ignacio was dead. She belonged to Reyes now, he’d ensured it through death and destruction. By conquering her master and taking what had belonged to him. He slid his hand down her hip, across her waist and over her breast. His dark, bloodied hand looked so barbaric sliding against the silk of her robe. The fabric parted, revealing the edge of her breast. She held her breath, wondering if he intended to consummate their relationship right there in her bed, in her husband’s home, moments after making her a widow.

Instead he picked up her scarred hand and drew her up until she was sitting. “Let’s go home, cariña.”

17

He watched her every move with such sharp impatience, she was surprised he allowed her enough privacy that she was able to dress in the walk-in closet with door closed. Casey slipped on a pair of her favourite skinny jeans with rips in the thighs and topped it with a T-shirt that had a bloody rose and skull on it. She pulled on a short leather jacket with buckles on the side and tugged her hair free. She examined her shoes and briefly considered her flats as the more comfortable option for a kidnapping, but decided she preferred the height of four-inch black heeled boots that zipped up the back and fitted perfectly over her jeans. She glanced at her reflection in the standing mirror on the wall in the closet and decided she looked almost perfectly armoured.

She had a nice selection of makeup in her favourite purse, which was on a shelf with her other purses. She was relieved that she didn’t have to use her vanity table. Casey swiped on a coating of dark smoky eye shadow, smudging it until it was perfect. Then she added a thick coat of black mascara to her blond lashes and thickened and darkened her eyebrows. A coat of lip gloss and she was ready to go.

Backing up, Casey surveyed her appearance. Excellent, she looked perfectly untouchable in expensive biker chic. Exactly what she was hoping for. Exactly opposite of her bloody Bolivian captor. She was dressing how she felt, he could deal with it.

“Casey,” he called to her, banging impatiently on the door with a fist. “Open the door now or I’m coming in.”

She pulled the door open and gave him the coldest look she was capable of, tossing her hair back over her shoulder and standing as tall as she could, which was a touch taller than him. The heated look he gave her told her he didn’t give a fuck what she was trying to pull. He swept her from head to foot, his eyes turning darker by the second with a lust so intense that she stumbled back into the closet out of self-preservation. Stupid plan because there was no place for her to run.

He chuckled darkly, stalking her into the closet. “You dressed this way for a reason, Casey? Why? To put me off? To put me in my place? You seem to think the height and maybe the leather might put me off, nena.”

She whimpered as she stumbled back into a shoe rack. He didn’t stop until he was standing right in from of her. He slammed his fist down next to her head, crashing it through the shelf. Shoes and splinters of wood flew everywhere. She cried out and flung herself sideways, but his other arm stopped her. When she dared look back at him she thought she’d see anger, thought she’d face his wrath, but she saw only hunger and raging lust.

“I fucking love being able to look into your eyes, Casey,” he growled at her, leaning in until his hips were pressed against hers and his lips were inches from hers. “You keep standing up, you keep going toe-to-toe and maybe you’ll survive me.”

Her mouth opened in surprise and he slanted his lips over hers in a quick, hot kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. She was too shocked to even close her eyes. It didn’t matter. The kiss was over before she had time to either protest or participate. Before she could form any kind of thought he reached for her hand and tugged her from the closet and out her bedroom door for the last time. She glanced over her shoulder, but the room that had been her sanctuary for such a long time was a blur as he pulled her down the hallway.

They walked swiftly to the mansion’s foyer, which was still littered with debris and the body of one of Ignacio’s guards. She forced herself not to cringe into Reyes’ side. Instead she stood tall and cool next to him when he stopped to survey his men and Diego who were all standing around clearly awaiting some kind of instruction from Reyes.

He maintained his hold on her arm, though he manoeuvered her so she was standing next to him when he spoke to Diego. His voice was clipped and impatient, as though he were eager to be done with his business. “Alejandro and a few of my men will stay behind for the next few weeks to help you establish contacts and set things up here. I trust you will make sure they are comfortable?”

Diego nodded shortly, though Casey knew him well enough to know he was anything but pleased with the idea of Reyes leaving behind babysitters. So, it would seem Ignacio’s second had betrayed him in order to secure himself a prime position. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. Diego’s gaze flicked to her for a split second, just long enough for her to see the gleam of sadistic longing within. She shuddered and inched closer to Reyes. God help her if she ever found herself alone with that man again. She didn’t think it would matter if they were in a mansion filled with Reyes’ men, she didn’t think Diego would be able to stop himself from playing out his worst fantasies.

“You have a problem, eh?” Reyes demanded, stepping in front of Casey and getting in Diego’s face.

Just shoot him, she silently begged.

Damn, the years really had changed her if that was how she was solving problems now. Unfortunately, Reyes did not shoot Diego. The new Miami underboss assured his Bolivian contact that he was in perfect control and would be happy to host Alejandro and his men. Then he walked them out to the waiting vehicles, a jovial bounce in his step. He attempted to help Casey into the back of the black Escalade, but Reyes intervened.

“Never,” he snarled, getting in Diego’s face again, “touch my woman.”

Diego held his hands up and backed away. “I get it, man. Different boss, same orders.” Then he turned and strode rapidly away.

Casey breathed easier without his oppressive, sleazy presence near her. Reyes helped her into the back of the SUV, but as soon as she was clear of the doorframe she jerked her arm away. He climbed in behind her. Once they were settled into the back he studied her serious face. “What did he mean?”

She shrugged one shoulder and sighed. “Ignacio had standing orders that no one was allowed to touch me.”

He frowned. “Ever?”

She shook her head. “Not ever. Not without his permission or his presence. Touching would result in either severe punishment or death. The last guy that touched me in front of Ignacio lost his hand and all he did was touch my arm to help me down some stairs. Ignacio is…” she stumbled over her words and closed her eyes for a second before continuing, “was a control freak.”

He nodded, still frowning, absorbing her words thoughtfully. Then he said, “And this is the man you were loyal to right up to the moment of his death?” He shook his head at her, frowning fiercely in the darkness of the back seat, the occasional flash from passing streetlights, lighting up his rugged features. “I don’t know whether to be disgusted by you or in utter awe of your stubborn tenacity.”

She stared back at him mutinously and then hissed in a low voice, “Stop using past tense, Reyes, because I’m still loyal to my husband, dead or not. I told you if you murdered Ignacio I wouldn’t touch you, and I won’t! You destroyed anything we could’ve had with the blood on your hands.” He reached for her, but she immediately recoiled back against the door. “Don’t touch me, don’t you ever touch me! You still have blood on your hands; his blood!”

He grabbed her, unbuckled her seatbelt and wrenched her across the back seat of the car, holding her struggling body firmly on his lap. He pinned her arms against her side using a brutal strength he hadn’t used with her yet. She cried out in pain and gave up when the pressure on her arms became unbearable. After a moment, he eased his grip and pulled her chest to his.

“You listen good, nena, because I will only say this once. I will touch you whenever and however I want,” he growled into her face, eyes flashing. “Not long now, Casey. The moment we arrive at my home, you will be mine. Get used to the idea.”

As if her heart wasn’t beating fast enough from being manhandled, his words added a few skipped beats until she thought she was going to have a heart attack at the tender age of twenty-eight. He held her that way, eyes locked with hers, hands hard on her arms until her breathing began to slow. He moved her into the seat directly next to his and buckled the seatbelt around her waist then placed an arm around her shoulders anchoring her against his side.

She desperately wished for the creeping numbness to help her cope, help her manage her emotions, but she seemed to be hyperaware of everything around her. She frowned. It was weird. She didn’t usually feel things so keenly. Maybe it was surviving a gun battle and then nearly getting shot in the head by her own bodyguard. But… no, that wasn’t right. If she were being totally honest with herself, she’d been waking up from her stupor for weeks now. Ever since Reyes had stepped into her life and forcibly started making her notice things.

Plus, the lack of prescription drugs in her system. She hadn’t wanted to believe that Ignacio had been deliberately drugging her to keep her compliant for years, but the reality seemed more and more likely. Another thing she could contribute to Reyes; she’d hated the idea that he might think of her as a user. So she’d been flushing her pills, shame as her motivation.

She glanced out the window and a small laugh shook her, catching his attention. “What is it, nena?” he asked.

“It stopped raining,” she pointed out. “I hadn’t noticed.” Apparently, she wasn’t ready to start noticing everything yet.

“So it has,” he agreed. “The weather is cooperating with my plans to fly out immediately.”

The breath caught in her throat and she looked at him sharply. She knew he planned on taking her back to his home, but somehow, she hadn’t though it would be this soon. If she were being honest a part of her believed she might somehow get out of being taken to Bolivia, either by talking Reyes out of it, or possibly by escaping. But now, glancing out the window, she saw that they were indeed on their way to the airport.

After 20 minutes, they arrived at the airport and parked the vehicles near a private hangar. Reyes escorted Casey from the vehicle and led her to the side of a building where she stood watching in shivering fascination while he and his men talked to a pilot that clearly worked for Reyes about take-off preparations. One of the men used a water bottle to soak a towel and handed it to Reyes. Reyes rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, took the towel and absently washed the blood from his skin without once breaking conversation with the pilot.

Casey shivered at his callousness, his ability to take a life one moment, steal the dead man’s wife the next and then continue as if nothing had happened. And yet… there was something undeniably attractive about him. His scarred face and thick, black hair woke something within her. Called to her with a wildness that frightened her because she knew the things she felt for him were nothing like anything she’d ever felt for her husband. And that if she wasn’t careful she could find herself in danger of becoming obsessed with her husband’s killer.

As if sensing her stare, he turned his head to look at her, returning the intensity of her regard with interest. She knew she wasn’t alone in her feelings. Not even close. He abruptly finished his conversation with the pilot and turned to her, taking her arm once more. “We’re in luck, nena. Hatcher assures me that the weather has cleared enough that we can maintain my original schedule. We will be able to leave within minutes.”

Her mouth felt suddenly dry and all she could do was nod. She was going to Bolivia.

Moments later she found herself bundled onto the plane and buckled in. She looked around in wide-eyed awe. She knew she’d flown before, when she was a child, or a teenager, but the memories were fuzzy and hard to grasp, not concrete. Somehow, she knew this was much different. The plane was some kind of smaller commercial carrier with passenger seats. It didn’t look very comfortable for a trip that she knew was going to be as long as a flight to Bolivia would take. Then she frowned, a thought occurring to her as the men shuffled past her and began taking seats in the back.

“No one checked our passports,” she mumbled.

Reyes crouched in front of her and checked her seat belt, tightening it across her lap. He chuckled at the annoyed look on her face. “You don’t need to worry about that, cariña.”

She gave him a scornful look as he took the seat across from hers. “You are such a criminal, Reyes.”

He ignored her scathing condemnation.

She turned in her seat and clutched the window frame, watching the goings on of the crew as they prepared the plane for takeoff. Within minutes the plane was taxying down a runway and she was bracing her back against the seat. She could feel Reyes’ eyes on her face, taking in every minute expression, but she ignored him. With each mile that passed between her and her home, her anger climbed.

She watched as the plane banked and soared higher, taking her from the only home she’d ever known. As the airplane rose and the city gradually receded, giving way to ocean the reality of her situation hit her. Panic and rage flared up in her chest and she swung her head away from the window. She glared at the source of her angst, the man who had entered her life like a bulldozer, smashing everything within, figuratively and literally.

“How could you do this, Reyes?” she hissed, and then raised her voice to be heard over the airplane noise. “How the fuck could you do this to me?”

He watched her, his eyes roaming over her stiff body, branding ownership with every heated touch. She wanted to strike out at him, to say or do something to cause the type of turmoil she was now feeling. She hated that this was her life. That she was forever bound by the unspoken laws of the mafia women. Shut up and wait for your orders. He confirmed her thoughts with his next words.

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, Casey. Just relax and do your job,” he said.

“And what is that?” she demanded.

“Stay gorgeous and fuck me when I tell you to.”

“You know what, Reyes?” she snarled, gripping the edge of her seat to stop herself from launching at him. “You can go fuck yourself, I’m not touching you!”

His eyes glinted with humour and she heard several of his guys chuckle around her. She whipped her head sideways to glare at them. They looked away quickly, not wanting to get caught staring at the boss’s new lady while she stepped dangerously close to the edge of mouthing off to the big guy. Everyone sat in breathless anticipation as Reyes leaned forward and took her chin gently in his hand, tilting her face so she was forced to look at him.

“There is the fire I want from you, cariña,” he said softly, for her ears only. Then he pushed her back, double checked her seat belt and tucked a blanket around her legs so she wouldn’t get cold. “Sleep if you can. It’s a long flight to La Paz and you’ll need the rest.”

Casey subsided and watched warily as Reyes settled into the seat next to hers. But he did and said nothing more to her. She couldn’t really believe he had allowed her to have her small temper tantrum in front of his men. Confusing fucking man. One minute he was acting like a caveman telling her he could touch her whenever he wanted and the next he was telling her to fight him. What the hell did he want from her?

18

They stopped once to refuel the airplane in a mountainous region about four hours into the flight. Neither Reyes nor any of his men told her where they stopped, but they seemed relaxed enough as they disembarked the plane to stretch their legs at the private air field. Reyes helped her off the plane and walked with her toward a building where she was able to use the facilities and grab a sandwich.

When Casey emerged back into the morning sunlight she was keenly aware of the intense perusal of several armed men wearing military uniforms. Reyes joined her again, sliding his arm possessively around her back. The eyes that had been on her fell quickly away as though they knew exactly who he was. Apparently, his claim on her sealed her position. Not having any clue where she was, she wasn’t going to fight him on it. He handed her a pair of large, aviator style sunglasses that covered half her face when she slid them on. She was grateful for the coverage. They boarded the plane as soon as it was ready to go.

In less than three hours they were landing in Bolivia at a private airstrip just outside of La Paz. Reyes spent most of the flight either lightly napping or in low-voiced discussion with one of his men, who seemed to replace Alejandro when the second-in-command was left behind. But Reyes also talked to her about her new home just before they landed, perhaps sensing her rising trepidation as they flew over the sprawling city of La Paz, surrounded by the high mountains of the Altiplano. She already knew from the guidebook he’d given her that La Paz was the highest capital city in the world, located in a canyon Southeast of Lake Titicaca. She swallowed hard, allowing her ears to pop as the airplane banked through the thin clouds and went in for a landing while Reyes explained that the next part of their journey would be taken by helicopter as his home was accessible through no other method.

She stared at him with a mix of dismay and astonishment when he told her this, and caught the deliberate satisfaction he clearly wanted her to see on his face. He wanted her to know that she was trapped. That he was taking her to a new cage. He leaned against her, his arm across her back as he pointed out different aspects of the city they were flying over. She was excited despite herself. She’d lived in Miami her entire life and rarely travelled. Having been under Ignacio’s roof and sole control for the past decade, she hadn’t even considered a different type of life for herself. A gentle thrill started to ripple through her, starting in her belly and swelling up through her chest.

Reyes leaned in and spoke low in her ear, “I like that smile, cariña. You are uncommonly beautiful without it, but when your lips curve like that, fuck, it makes me want to conquer the world for you and hand it over on a silver platter.”

Startled, Casey touched her lips, not even realizing she had been expressing joy. So much had happened in the past twelve hours it didn’t even seem possible. But… a part of her was happy and excited. She was in a new place. And despite being caged once more in a new type of prison, it wasn’t Ignacio’s prison. She dared a glance at the man watching her so intently as she surveyed his city, the city that was rushing at them faster and faster. She was now the property of a man that she knew deep in her soul could be as much of a monster, if not more so, than her late husband. But Reyes was also capable of great passion. He said beautiful things to her and gave her meaningful gifts.

She turned away from him, unwilling to examine their connection further. She just wasn’t in the right state of mind to deal with everything that had happened to her. Ignacio’s body was barely cold and she was being escorted to a new home by his killer, a man who was going to claim her as soon as they arrived at their destination.

His arm tightened around her when the tires of the plane touched the ground.

Casey was allowed to once more freshen up in a hangar washroom at the airstrip before she was rushed to a helicopter. There were two helicopters waiting for them. Reyes and his men split into two groups, Reyes leading her toward one of the helicopters with a hand at her back. They seemed to have organized already as no words were spoken. Casey slid into the seat Reyes pointed at and lifted her arms while he buckled her in. He placed a headset over her ears and adjusted the pieces until they fit her. She clearly had a smaller head than the person who’d used the headset before her. She also had zero experience with such things and made no fuss about his taking over for her. Reyes placed one over his own head and tested it to make sure she could hear him. She nodded, staring at him seriously.

This was it. There was no going back home after this. No way she could get away from a mountain fortress high up in the Bolivian Andes. Not that she had much of a chance of escaping in La Paz, but she had a better chance of hiding out in a city of over two million people than she did in the wilds of the mountains. As the helicopter lifted off she watched her last hope of escape recede and wondered if she shouldn’t have at least tried. Then she forced her body to relax into the cushioned seat.

Of course she shouldn’t have tried. It was an absurd thought to begin with. Where exactly was she going to go at a private airstrip surrounding by a dozen of Reyes’ armed men? And if she had managed to get away, she’d be the only pale, blond woman for miles attempting to catch a lift into a city filled with unknowns. A very unhappy Reyes would’ve been on top of her within minutes. Which would have made the intimacy of their first moments in his home that much more worse.

No, she was doing the best thing for herself in the long run. Measuring the situation and taking the best course of action open to her. One day, eventually, there would be an opening and then, on that day, she would seize it with both hands and start running. Until then, she would take in as much information as she could about her new home and her new jailor.

19

The final flight to Reyes’ home took about forty-five minutes by helicopter through treacherous mountain passes and valleys. Occasionally he pointed out volcanoes to her, glaciers and lakes. She shivered and craned her neck, staring in open-mouthed awe at rugged scenery she had never even thought to hope to see in her lifetime.

When they finally landed, Casey was surprised at how energized she was despite her lack of sleep. Her body felt as though it were on some kind of high. She managed to unbuckle her own belt while Reyes tugged the headset off her head, careful not to catch the long strands of her hair. She turned her head this way and that trying to catch a glimpse of his home, but she was frustrated in her efforts when she only saw more mountain peaks.

“Patience, nena,” he chuckled, catching her chin and forcing her to look at him. “The house is lower into the valley. I keep what is mine well protected.” She easily caught both the innuendo toward herself and the implied criticism of her late husband.

He took her hand and helped her step down off the helicopter. The other one was still landing, but he didn’t bother waiting for it. He tugged her toward a rugged looking SUV, followed by two of his men. Another man stood next to the vehicle, opening the back door as they approached. He cast a curious glance toward Casey, but looked away immediately when Reyes gave him a hard look.

As soon as they were buckled into the back of the vehicle, Reyes snapped at the driver. “Take us home. Now.”

She blushed at the impatience in his voice, hoping she was the only one that knew the reason for it. Then she forgot her embarrassment in her eagerness to catch sight of her new home as they crested over the top of the landing pad and took the winding road down into the valley. She had no idea what to expect and was completely shocked by the sprawling size of Reyes estate. It looked more like a town than a home with the amount of buildings nestled within the valley. She could easily see from the way they were structured that they’d been designed with fortification and security in mind. But the overall architecture was beautiful.

As the vehicle drew closer to the main gates she was able to discern which was the main house; it was a truly stunning structure. It was a classic two-story mansion with historic columns and arches. It could have been gaudy, but instead had a truly elegant feel to it. Somehow, she hadn’t pictured a man like Reyes, such a tough, sinister man, in such a lovely home.

She wanted to say something, to tell Reyes how beautiful she found his house, but she couldn’t find the words. It didn’t matter. When she turned her eyes to his, she knew he saw everything he needed in her expressive face. His own transformed into easy lines of satisfaction, the scars easing as his face softened. The vehicle curved around the driveway and stopped in front of the house. Reyes got out first and reached in to help her slide out after him.

They walked through the front doors of his mansion together, past the many watching eyes of his security and staff. For Casey, the entire scene felt both eerily familiar and entirely foreign. She was tempted to cling to Reyes as a source of comfort, but knew she needed to ignore that impulse. It would be like reaching for the tail of a lion, hoping the lion might lead her to safety rather than turn around and devour her whole. Reyes was not her savior; she must never forget that.

“Come, nena, it’s time for us to get some rest,” he said, his voice a deep rumble for her ears alone, though she knew he didn’t care who overheard.

He turned and snapped several orders to a man standing beside him. He spoke in rapid Spanish, but Casey knew the language well enough to catch the general idea of what he was saying and became quickly aware that the man, named Nicolas, was Reyes’ head of security for the compound. Reyes was arranging a time later in the evening when they would meet to discuss anything that had happened during his absence. They would also discuss a security detail for his new… wife? For a moment Casey went ice cold and then hot with fury when she thought he was married and bringing her into the mansion as a mistress. Then it hit her, he was referring to her as his wife. Casey’s mouth fell open in shock.

Reyes finished his conversation with Nicolas and turned to his housekeeper, Serana, and ordered food and drink sent to the master suite. Then he took Casey’s hand in a firm grip and strode impatiently through his home with her in tow. He walked so quickly, she barely had time to register any of the beautiful furnishings or the people who gaped after them and jumped quickly out of their master’s path as he progressed toward his bedroom with her hand held firmly in his grasp.

“Reyes!” she gasped, digging her heels into the carpeted hallway as they approached a set of beautifully carved double doors on the second floor that could only lead to the master suite.

“What?” he snapped, shoving the doors open and flinging her inside by the wrist.

She stumbled into his bedroom and turned to look at him, eyes widening in dismay. She backed away from him as he advanced slowly toward her his eyes gleaming with dark, predatory lust. She licked her lips nervously. “I-I’d really like my own bedroom, Reyes. P-please get someone to show me where I can sleep. I’m very tired.”

“I told you that you wouldn’t be leaving my bed once I had you, Casey,” he said, drawing the words out slowly as he stalked her around the bed. “You need to start believing the things that I tell you. It will be better for you in the long run. More... comfortable, perhaps.”

She turned to look at him warily, tearing her eyes away from the bed that seemed nearly as barbaric as he, huge and piled high with dark coverings and pillows. “I didn’t think you meant quite so literally, Reyes. People in our positions don’t share bedrooms. Women like me... they get summoned when they’re wanted.”

He stalked a few steps closer, his eyes taking on that dark glow when he was pissed off. God, why did she always have to let her tongue have free reign?

“Women like you?” he asked, his voice menacingly quiet.

She nodded miserably. “Yes,” she whispered. “The wives and the whores. The women, Reyes… we’re nothing to men like you. Men with power.”

He stared at her and she could see something moving behind his eyes, a creeping darkness. She desperately wished she knew what it was. He clearly didn’t like her talking about herself this way, but if she had to guess... she’d just hit the nail on the head. She’d described a world that he was used to living in just as much as she; and he didn’t like it. Not one fucking bit. And if she had to guess again, she’d guess that no woman had ever been summoned to share his room for longer than a few hours at a time, if even that. His room was probably his sanctuary. He likely fucked his women somewhere else.

“Come,” he finally bit out. “We had a long flight and I want to wash your dead husband’s blood off my body before I fuck you for the first time.”

Casey’s mouth fell open and she couldn’t help the look of horror that passed over her face at his blunt words. She knew the harshness of that statement was meant to shock her back into her place. To tell them both exactly where she belonged. Maybe her little speech had reminded him that he shouldn’t be elevating her beyond what she actually was. The pathetic widow of a dead, degenerate ex-business associate.

Reyes grabbed her hand and pulled her forcibly behind him toward a massive open doorway off the bedroom. It was a huge tiled washroom filled with gorgeous frosted glass and light furnishings. She was used to luxury but nothing like this. She would have taken more time to stare around her in awe and touch the things in the lovely room, but Reyes began undressing right there in front of her, capturing her entire attention.

Casey started to back away from him toward the bedroom, but he snatched her wrist and swung her around until she was trapped between him and the rest of the beautiful bathroom. “I don’t think so, nena, we shower together so I know you won’t run away on me.”

She wanted to protest, to tell him she would do no such thing, but her ability to speak fled when his shirt dropped, revealing his upper body. She’d known his strength, he’s used it on her before, but seeing him without his shirt, the hot, chiseled muscles that rippled down the front of his body in flat ridges and flexed over his stunning arms gave her a reality check she was not expecting. A deep gouge, long since healed, but badly, now left a puckered slash down his side. She thought it had probably been deep enough to reach his ribs. Her fingers twitched to touch and sooth, but she smothered the impulse.

Then his belt buckle and pants hit the floor. He was not wearing underwear. Sadly, her first thought was that he’d taken over an entire mafia operation and kidnapped her, all while commando, and that took some serious balls. Then her brain caught up to her eyes and she slowly started backing up again. The only man she’d ever been with was her husband and the last time had been well over a year ago. And sadly, Ignacio had not been built like this man. Not even close. Not in any way. She didn’t even know men came this different. Well, she’d suspected, given some of her reading material. But she didn’t know, know.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when he closed the space between them and without hesitation, reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it right over her head. She was still gaping at him when he unsnapped her bra and made short work of that too.

“Stop it!” she gasped, pulling away from him and covering her breasts with her palms. “Leave me alone!”

He used her momentum to knock her off balance and force her into a sitting position on the edge of the tub where he bent in front of her and swiftly unzipped and removed her boots. She just gawked like an idiot at his easy handling of her. Without thinking she smacked him in shoulder, the heel of her hand thumping against the muscle.

He lifted his head to give her a warning look but he didn’t make a move to stop her. He only said in a low voice while reaching for the fastening on her jeans. “Strike me in anger again, nena, and I will retaliate. I’m not a patient man or an easy man. You want a war, I can give you a war. But be careful what you ask for.”

Her hands fell to the edge of the tub and gripped so she wouldn’t be tempted to do anything stupid again. She didn’t know what he considered retaliation and she wasn’t sure she was ready to find out. He unzipped her jeans and maneuvered them easily down her hips while she sat in silence. Then it occurred to her how he was handling her with such ease. He was probably used to pushing people around physically as part of his every day existence. She guessed she was just lucky he was being so gentle with her. She shuddered.

Fear and embarrassment crashed through her once he’d pulled off her panties, the last item of clothing from her body. There wasn’t even an ounce of the usual lust she felt when she was around him. She was too unsure of him and the situation to be responsive.

As if sensing her trepidation, he sighed, almost tiredly and held out his hand. “Come on, Casey,” he said in a low voice. “You’ll feel better after you shower.”

She stared at his hand and then looked up at him and shook her head. “I would feel better if you took me back home and stopped pretending this is something that I want.”

His eyes hardened and he let out a growl. He grabbed her arm and pulled her off the edge of the tub. She slammed into the heat of his rock-hard body. She brought her hands up to catch herself and then thought better of it when they slid along the warm steel of corded muscles. She tried to drop her hands but he jerked her closer and snarled in her face, “You don’t get it. What you want doesn’t matter anymore, if it ever did, Casey. You belong to me now, nena. ‘Spoils of war’ is how I believe you so inelegantly put it. It’s up to you whether you come to me as my queen or my slave. Now we will get in that shower and rinse off and then I’m going to fuck you, willing or not.”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond, instead he dragged her toward the big beast of a shower stall and stood with her arm gripped tightly in his fist while he messed with the settings. Once he seemed satisfied, he hauled her in with him and shoved her under the spray facing away from him.

She gasped as he set about soaping her without any finesse or gentleness. She squirmed and cried out when his fingers violated every part of her body with quick firm strokes. She would have called the cleansing impersonal, but when she looked over her shoulder at his face she could see the lust blazing through his anger. His fury seemed to fuel his desire for her.

“Stop!” she begged when his soapy fingers slid between her legs, but he didn’t. He turned her around to face him, pushed her against the shower wall and then shoved a finger inside her. Casey tried to stop the whimper that erupted from her throat but it was useless. She was past the point of being able to control herself. Either physically or emotionally. Then his fingers slid through her folds and without warning he pushed the tip of his soapy finger into her ass. She screamed in surprise and jumped up onto her toes, trying to squirm away from him.

“Fuck, Casey,” he grunted. “So fucking tight.”

She wanted to die of embarrassment but he removed his hands, turned away from her and began soaping himself in quick, efficient strokes. She crossed her arms over her wet breasts and just stared, caught somewhere between the pleasure of watching an extremely masculine, good-looking man wash himself and the terror of knowing what that man intended on doing to her when he was done.

He finished, turned the taps off, took hold of her arm once more without even looking at her and hauled her out of the shower. Casey followed him, the picture of docility, while attempting to cover herself with her remaining arm. Inside, she was beginning to both panic and seethe, the prospect of his bed looming closer and closer. When he picked up a towel off the vanity, shook it out and began drying her off, she got the sudden urge to bite him.

Instead she took hold of the edge of the towel, stepped quickly back and snapped, “I can dry myself.”

His head came up along with one thick, black eyebrow. A clear warning was evident in his gaze and she thought he was about to back it up verbally or physically but some of her panic must have leaked through in her eyes, because he closed his mouth, gave her a quick nod and let her have the towel. She breathed easier and dried herself while simultaneously exposing as little of herself as possible, though he’d already seen everything. She wrapped the large towel around herself and allowed him to escort her back into the bedroom.

As they approached the bed, she shook her head and dug her feet into the thick carpet, pulling her arm away from him. She clutched the towel tightly over her breasts with her other hand. “Not happening, Reyes,” she said with as much authority as she could manage given her lack of attire or position within his household. He turned to her with a complete lack of modesty over his own nudity and stared, his gaze both icy cold and intensely heated at the same time. She shivered, sparing a thought for the talent it took for these mafia bosses to perfect those kinds of intense stares.

“Explain yourself. And do so carefully, nena,” he said with deadly calm. “This is your only chance.”

She shivered, but lifted her chin and gave him her best mob wife stare. She knew how to give as good as she got. And so far, she’d negotiated herself out of sex with him twice. She could do it a third. She knew she wasn’t going to escape him forever, but she just couldn’t bring herself to hop into bed with the man who had killed her husband only a few hours earlier. No matter how much she’d despised Ignacio, his memory just didn’t deserve that kind of cold disrespect.

“You may have made me a widow, Reyes,” she said, ice dripping from each word, “but I’m still married to Ignacio Hernandez in my head. You haven’t given me any time to process this brutal situation. I am still Casey Hernandez until the moment you take that away from me too. And you are the man that murdered my husband in the only home I’ve known for ten years. You are the man that tore me away from that home, abducted me and took me to a new fucking continent! Now you want me to just crawl into your bed and spread my legs. No thank you, Reyes.” She thrust her chin out and glared at him for all she was worth. “No… you can go fuck yourself. I don’t care how many showers you take, you still have Ignacio’s blood all over you and I won’t forget that.”

He stood silent for a moment, just watching her. Absorbing her blatant disrespect and refusal to give him what he demanded. It took her several heartbeats to realize he was containing the rage that her words had provoked within him. She saw it in the clench of his fists and the ripple of his muscles. She saw in the impassive mask he struggled to maintain. She would stand her ground though. She reminded herself of who she was and why she was there.

“You want to see what I’m capable of?” he said, his voice grimly quiet, when he finally spoke. “Say his name again, Casey. Tell me you belong to a dead man one more time.”

She glared at him and smacked her chest over her heart with her fist and snarled in his face, “I am the wife of Ignacio Hernandez!”

20

Without warning he grabbed her by the neck with one hand, his fingers wrapping around the delicate column. She stumbled back. He followed, pushing her until her legs hit the bed and she fell backwards. He tore the towel away from her body with his other hand, baring her pale body to his sweeping gaze and ruthless touch. He kneeled next to her, throwing his weight across her body. She brought her hands up, bracing them against his hard chest.

Her terrified eyes met the steely determination in his. “Say his fucking name again,” he snarled, leaning down to speak in her face, his lips hovering above hers. His fingers tightened around her throat, cutting off her ability to speak and most of her ability to breath. “Speak that man’s name again in my home, in my very bedroom, I dare you, nena. Push me further, find out what will happen.”

The elemental threat of his hand on her throat, controlling her very life both terrified and exhilarated her. She lifted her chin in defiance, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. His eyes followed the movement, heat flaring before meeting her gaze. Her eyes dilated in response. He eased his grip and leaned down to taste her lips, to follow the path of her tongue. Her eyes flashed up at him, giving him only the briefest of warnings before she sank her teeth into his lip, biting down hard enough to drawn blood.

He jerked back in surprise and then immediately reached for her, but she was gone in a flash, rolling out from under him and across the bed. Casey lunged off the other side of the bed, fueled by adrenaline, much faster than she thought herself capable.

He growled in annoyance, touching a finger to his lip and giving the bloody evidence on his finger the barest of glances. “Stop playing games, nena. You know this is inevitable. Act like a real woman and get your ass over here.”

“Act like a real man, Reyes,” she taunted from across the bed, grabbing up the edge of a blanket and holding it against her naked body, “and go find a woman that wants you.”

She saw pure, unadulterated rage flash through his eyes right before he struck, lunging for her. He was so fast she didn’t stand a chance of getting away. She dropped the blanket and ran for all she was worth. He caught her by the ends of her hair as she tried to streak past him, yanking her back against his bare chest. She screamed in pain, but he eased his grip the moment her struggling body was in his arms. He picked her up and slammed her down hard on the bed, knocking the breath from her.

He fell on top of her, squeezing her until she was forced to give up the fight or lose what little air she had left in her lungs. He leaned over her and said in her ear, “You need proof that you want me, Casey? I will be happy to show you this, over and over again until you beg me to stop. There is more than one way to torture a person and I’m happy to introduce you to this method so you will be more careful with your words to me in future.”

He rolled off the bed, dragging her with him. She cried and begged him to let her go, but he completely ignored her pleas. She was terrified now that her defiance had brought out a monster in him. Years of punishments welled up in her, terrorizing her mind until she could think of nothing but getting away from Reyes. She fought with every ounce of strength she possessed, but it wasn’t much. She was the pampered trophy wife of a dead man with more issues than she could throw a stick at.

Reyes had her subdued and helpless with her arms tied tightly over her head with a belt quickly and efficiently. He didn’t bother tying her legs, growling down at her that he’d rather have free access to stretch them wide and pull them over his shoulders. She opened her mouth to shriek at him, but he slammed his lips over hers, swallowing her protests in a bloody kiss. He shoved his tongue deep into her mouth as if daring her to bite him again, but she didn’t have it in her to taunt him further. His retaliations were proving painful and humiliating.

He kissed her over and over, stealing her breath, and drugging her with heat and need until she was meeting him kiss for kiss. Her baser instincts were taking over, giving way to the intense attraction that blazed within her whenever he touched her. The desperate desire to give this man exactly what he craved. Something inside her broke every time he touched her. Broke and woke up, clawed its way up her chest to meet him, reaching desperately for him, begging him for more. Clinging passionately to the man she recognized as her equal, even if her logical brain couldn’t do it yet.

A sob tore from her throat and she arched toward him in abandon, her lips wet with his blood and saliva. He slashed a grin down at her. “There’s my girl.”

She pulled on her wrists, but the binding he’d tied her with held tight. She whimpered and twisted against it, tossing her head and looking at him imploringly, wanting to touch him back. He shook his back. “No,” he growled. “You were bad, nena. Tried to fly on your own. And I will never allow that. Now you can suffer this lesson.”

He moved down her body, worshipping her breasts, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. She couldn’t see the colour, but she could see the difference in shades against her skin and it was beautiful to her eyes. He lavished her breasts and nipples with such tender attention that it made her wild in her need to be closer to him. She arched her spine upwards, pressing herself into his hot possessive mouth. She’d never felt anything like the lash of his tongue against her sensitive nipple as he sucked it into his mouth and played with the engorged bud until she was screaming with pleasure, spreading her legs against the plush bedding and begging him for more.

“Más?” he questioned her. “You want more, Casey?” he growled against her body, tearing his mouth away from her flesh and climbing lower while she cried and whimpered, thrashing against her bonds.

“No!” she screamed as he pressed one hand between her breasts and forced her heaving body back into the bedding, then with a heated look, pressed his thumb against the core of her, sliding it along her pussy until he was pressing fully against her clit. “Fuck, yeeeesss!” she screamed, her head arched back into the pillows, her throat straining with tension.

He used his shoulders to force her slim, shaking legs wide and flicked her clit with his thumb until she was crying and begging him to both stop and continue. Sweat beaded against the hollow of her throat and she pulled weakly on the belt he’d wrapped around her delicate wrists.

He leaned in and inhaled her scent growling, “Fucking caliente,” against her flesh before devouring her with his tongue, driving her to the edge over and over again without allowing her to fall over. True to his word, Reyes tortured her in the most delicious way until she was writhing and crying underneath him, begging for release.

“Anything… please just stop,” she panted when he eased back again, stealing her release.

Tears leaked from her beautiful eyes where they were fixed on the ceiling. Despite the pain of an over sensitized body, she refused to look at him. She refused to give in entirely to the man who wanted to own her body and soul. He climbed up her body and took her jaw in his hand, forcing her to look at him, allowing her no escape from his world of deprivation. Her lips trembled as she met his eyes.

“Give me what I want,” he rasped, lust, rage and admiration for her clashing and warring within, telling her he was as affected by her as she was by him.

“I-I will never speak his name under this roof again,” she whispered weakly.

Triumph blazed bright and with her jaw still tight in his hand, he took her lips in a passionate kiss filled with the promise of what was soon to come. She moaned into his mouth as she tasted herself on his tongue. He reached between them and positioned himself between her thighs, shoving her legs back until he was poised to take her. He leaned down over top of her until his lips were inches from her own. “Who do you belong to, Casey?” he demanded.

She didn’t say anything for a second and then she met his eyes, one amber and one green clashing with his dark eyes. “You, Reyes,” she whispered. “I belong to you.”

He dropped his head until his forehead touched hers and he thrust foreword, burying his full length within her. Casey cried out at the intrusion and bucked against the bed, arching her neck in protest. Tears of pain escaped her eyes and she squeezed them shut while she tried to adjust to the fullness of having a man in and on her body once again. Especially one as large as Reyes.

He framed her face with his hands and dropped a kiss on her trembling lips. “Shhh, nena, come on. Open your eyes,” he urged her.

A sob escaped her lips, but after another moment of adjustment she did open her eyes for him. She was afraid she would see triumph, but she didn’t. She saw concern. Just… raw worry as he searched her face for passion. She couldn’t deal with that. She couldn’t handle her own emotions let alone anything he might feel for her. Nothing about this situation was okay. She blinked again, closing her eyes and allowing herself to drift the way she used to when things got too overwhelming.

“No,” he said sharply, shaking her. “No, Casey. You come back to me. Look at me, cariña.”

She blinked again and then he was in focus once more. Then he moved within her, withdrawing before plunging back in. She was tight, but she was also so very wet ensuring that it no longer hurt. It felt… fucking incredible! She gasped and lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. His eyes blazed with pride when her primal nature took over, rising up and meeting him.

“Yes, Casey, fuck yes,” he growled, swooping down to kiss her hard on the lips again. She licked her lips, tasting herself in his kiss, sinfully spicy and erotic. “Good fucking girl.”

He set a hard, fast pace, fucking her with intense strokes that made her cry out and grip the leather belt above her head. He rode her hard, his cock bottoming out deep within her, slamming ruthlessly into her cervix. She tried to bring her knees up, to force him back, to slow him down, but he gripped her thighs and held her wide, stretching his body over hers.

Her face twisted and she begged him to slow down, “Please, Reyes, the pressure… it’s too much, it’s been too long for me.”

He gripped her jaw and forced her to look at him, his eyes blazing into hers. He adjusted his hips, fitting himself closer in the cradle of her hips and then slamming himself home. He shook his head, his dark eyes tender and brutal all at the same time, “No, nena, you can take me. Always.” The moment was so private, so barbaric, she felt like something in her was clinging to a rope that he was gripping with his massive strength. Something he was refusing to let go of. She stared back at him and relaxed the muscles in her legs.

He reached between them and glided his thumb over her slick, over-sensitive clit. She screamed, flinging her head back into the pillows. The sensations were too much after he’d played with her body, bringing her to the edge over and over again. He hovered his broad shoulders over her and leaned in so he could see her face while he continued to strum her body like a master player.

“It’s time to let go, mi amor, mi cariña,” he growled softly, the tender words at odds with the brutal slam of his cock in her body. “Come for me, Casey.” And she did, flying apart in a world of colour that only she could see in her broken head.

“Oh fuck, woman, the sounds you make,” he snarled. He bent his head and bit her neck right where her throat met her shoulder. “Do it again,” he groaned against her skin and slammed himself deep into her body while continuing to stroke her clit, circling the slippery nub with hard fast strokes of his thumb.

She jerked hard against her bindings, twisting her hips to escape the second, even more intense explosion building within. She yelled and cried for him to stop and then begged him to let her come again. He watched her face the whole time with an intensity that would have scared her if she were in the right mind to pay attention.

“Oh god, Reyes!” she screamed. “I’m coming!”

“Yes, cariña,” he hissed in her ear, slamming himself deep inside her just as she clamped down hard on his cock, anchoring him in her tight, silken passage. “Come for me.” He slammed his mouth over hers and bit her lip until his teeth cut into the tender tissues and she tasted her own blood.

Her hips jerked up into his, her orgasm driving higher with the slight pain he inflicted. Her eyes flew open to meet the blazing satisfaction in his as she felt the hot flood of semen deep within her. Slowly she opened her mouth to allow his tongue entry and they kissed leisurely while he stroked his cock slowly in and out of her, filling her with his seed. He refused to let her eyes go until he was done. And even then, when she tried to break their kiss and turn her head away, he reached for her jaw and held her still, forcing her to look at him still.

Reyes swiped his thumb across the tiny bite mark he’d given her, smearing her blood. He held it up for her to see and raised a dark eyebrow. “You see this, Casey?” she nodded slowly, her heart beating faster. She knew this moment was deeply significant and she felt both elation and terror well up. He pressed his thumb against the place on his lip where she had bitten him and drawn blood. “From now until death, we bleed together. Understand?”

She nodded.

“Say it, Casey,” he demanded.

“I understand, Reyes,” she whispered. “We bleed together.”

He bent and kissed her, sealing his blood vow. She sighed and opened her mouth to him, wishing he would freaking unbelt her already so she could wrap her arms around him. In just one good fuck he’d managed to give her two earth-shattering orgasms, shake her loyalty to her former life to its very core and crack a fissure in her heart as wide as the Altiplano. God, these intense mafia guys.

Maybe this was the life for her.

21

“Where is she?” Reyes demanded, snapping at Alejandro as he strode down the stairs toward the front doors of the mansion. He knew she wasn’t inside since he had his entire staff searching for her and no one had found her.

Fuck, he hadn’t taken his eyes off her for two solid weeks and once, just once he’d allowed her a moment alone. She’d asked him if she could go take a nap by herself while he attended to business and she up and fucking disappeared. He knew his obsession with her was bordering on insanity, that she needed a little breathing room, but he couldn’t seem to help it. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, though he was about to revise that opinion. No, he just couldn’t seem to leave her alone. Didn’t want to keep his hands or his eyes to himself. Now that she was in his keeping he wanted his queen in his bed, in his presence and by his side with a fervency that surprised even him. He’d always been extremely solitary, preferring his own company. But now he wanted Casey with him; always.

He didn’t give her a chance to deny him. He touched her at every opportunity, rarely allowing her to leave their bed, unless meals or business forced his hand. And even then, he decided he wouldn’t be separated from his woman. He was past the point of caring to examine why he needed her so badly, he just did. The first moment he set eyes on Casey, she sucked him in like a moth to flames, burning him in the best possible way. Now that he had her in his home, had tasted paradise in her pussy, he was beyond questioning this obsession. It just existed deep within his breast.

Something within him had shifted, the man that had violently risen up to create the most powerful cartel in Bolivia and beyond was now consumed by a woman. And he would gladly share his power with the woman that obsessed his mind, body and soul.

If he could fucking find her.

At first, she had been confused and even reluctant to accompany him everywhere. She’d hesitated when he’d insisted she attend business with him, but he hadn’t given her a choice, seating her at his side within constant easy reach. Even his men hadn’t wanted to speak in front of a woman, especially an outsider, but one steely look from the boss had loosened their tongues. His unwillingness to compromise, combined with Casey’s lighthearted, bizarre chatter had eventually won a few of his men over. Her constant presence was beginning to ease the rest of his staff into the idea of having her around as a permanent fixture.

Now he just needed to find the woman and remind her, possibly using methods she wouldn’t enjoy, that she must never leave his sight. He eyed his second-in-command with icy deliberation. “You know where she is,” he grunted and considered shooting the man for not offering the information the instant he realized Reyes was searching for her.

“Calm down,” Alejandro urged him, holding up a hand. He yawned widely and ran a hand over his unshaven face. He’d arrived back from Miami the evening before, reluctantly satisfied with Diego’s progress on that front. Apparently, he cared little for the other man, but was convinced he could pick up where Ignacio had left off until the Bolivian’s were ready to make a final decision.

“Speak now or die.” They both knew he was leaving the word ‘horribly’ hanging in the air.

Alejandro grunted and turned on his heel, mumbling something like. “I tried.” Then a little louder. “If you’ll follow me, I can show you where she is.”

“Tell me she’s safe and I may spare your life,” Reyes said with deadly calm, falling into step next to his formerly trusted second.

Alejandro shot him a look and gave Reyes a little more space as they curved around the side of the house, skirting the majestic white columns and following a meticulously cared for hedged path down to the training grounds behind the men’s barracks. Reyes’ frown grew progressively blacker as they approached the buildings where dozens of his single men slept, ate and played.

“I can assure you that she is perfectly safe and in hands of a man that would rather die than allow any harm to come to your woman, Reyes,” Alejandro assured him.

Reyes grunted. “He may lose his hands for touching what is mine.”

Alejandro remained wisely silent as they approached the outdoor gym and weight facilities. Reyes caught sight of her right away, her pale blond hair shining like a beacon in the weak sunlight filtering through the cloud cover. He growled savagely and strode faster when he observed her take a nasty spill, his head of security having just thrown her to the ground over his shoulder. Reyes had his gun un-holstered and pointed straight at Nicolas’ face before anyone could blink.

Reyes had become so protective of his American lover over her few weeks at the compound that it was almost a certainty that he would have pulled the trigger if she hadn’t reacted as fast as she did, scrambling off the ground and leaping in between the two men. Luckily for Nicolas, she chose to fling herself at Reyes instead of the head of security or his life would have been forfeit no matter what she would have said in his defense. Reyes could not have stood her touching another man in that moment.

“No!” she cried out, clinging to Reyes, her fearful eyes begging for mercy. Mercy for another man, he thought savagely. “Please, don’t hurt him!”

“Explain,” he snarled in a low voice.

“Okay, y-yes, I can explain,” she breathed, trying unsuccessfully to tug his gun arm down. She gave up and just wrapped her own trembling arm around his instead and talked as fast as she could. “It’s just that you’ve been keeping me with you every minute of every day and insisting I go with you to all these business meetings. And eventually you’re going to have to go off property to meet with your other associates and I assume you’ll have to take me with you… I mean you as much as admitted you won’t be leaving me behind. Ever. So, self-defense is a must. And I know you’ve been trying to teach me some stuff, like how to punch and how to duck a hit. But, Reyes, you’re a… well… you’re a really bad teacher.”

Reyes blinked, finally releasing his head of security from the death glare he’d been giving him and turned his head to look at the psychotic blond he’d pledged his life to. A bad teacher? She could not possibly have just said that. “What the fuck, Casey?” he growled.

Alejandro took a step back and swallowed what sounded like a choking cough. If he wasn’t careful he was going on Reyes’ kill list too. Fuck, he was going to have to replace his entire, very talented team of men just for touching and looking at what belonged to him.

Casey ran her fingertips up and down the arm that was still tensed and extended in case he still needed to put a bullet in Nicolas. She licked her lips, ensuring his eyes continued to stay on her beautiful face. “It’s just that you refuse to actually do anything that might scare me, Reyes, and we both know you pull your punches when you try to teach me. And,” she glanced over her shoulder at the two men that were now pretending to do anything but listen to their deadly boss go soft over a woman, then she leaned in and whispered, “we both know every time you get your hands on me you forget about the self-defense part of the lesson. We usually end up in bed before I learn anything about taking care of myself properly. Whereas Nicolas is actually interested in teaching me how to survive if things go south.”

Reyes groaned and dropped his arm around her waist, hauling her against his taut body. Fuck. She had a fucking point, and he hated it. He rubbed his face with his other hand, attempting to push away some of the aggravation. “Why couldn’t you just explain that you were attempting to take combat lessons instead of sneaking off, nena?” he asked sternly.

“Would you have let me go?” she asked seriously.

He thought about it for a moment and then gave her an honest answer. “No.”

Her face fell a little and then a look he’d not seen since he brought her to Bolivia swept over her face, paling her delicate features. Her fingers clenched against his stomach muscles where she was holding on to him. “What is it, Casey?” he asked.

“W-will you punish me?” she whispered. “I lied to you a-and left the house without your permission. I let another man touch me.” Her voice rose in alarm as she recited her infractions.

He frowned at her, disliking the stiffness of her body, the withdrawal he could feel in her. As though he could feel the flinching of her soul as she curled within herself and slowly begin to drift to a place that he couldn’t reach. He shook her and then squeezed her waist until her beautiful eyes jumped to his. It bothered him that for just a moment, she was right, the dictator within him wanted to do exactly that. Murder his head of security and show his mistress her place. But the lover preferred that his queen be whole and undamaged.

“Tell me why you think I would punish you, Casey,” he demanded.

Shakily she lifted her fist in between them and showed him the back of her hand with the shiny scarred “H”. Ah, so the truth finally emerged. He’d been waiting for her to tell him the truth of this scar. He turned and nodded sharply to his men, “Dismissed.”

He started pulling her toward the nearest building, the sauna, wanting to have their conversation in private. He knew whatever she was going to tell him wouldn’t be pretty. That it would be some story of mob justice against a mob wife who strayed or broke the rules. He also knew he’d need to bury his cock in the woman he loved after she told him her story of pain because he’d need to affirm that this beautiful, broken woman was still here with him. Still alive. And still in his keeping. He couldn’t seem to stop fucking her. It was like he needed affirmation that she wasn’t a ghost or some kind of figment of his imagination.

He quickened his strides, his dick coming relentlessly to life as his brain thought only of branding himself all over Casey once more. And he couldn’t do that in a training field where one of his guys could come along. It was a poor excuse to have to remove their eyes. He was having a difficult enough time just knowing other people got to bask in her beauty when she was fully clothed, no fucking way any other motherfucker was going to see his woman naked.

He wrenched the door open and placed a hand on her back, impatiently waiting for her eyes to adjust before she entered the building. He’d quickly noticed in his time with Casey, though she seemed to have perfect vision, except for colour-blindness, her night vision was terrible. She refused to enter a room before she could properly see inside. He’d made a note in his calendar to get her examined by an eye doctor, find out if her strange vision issues were from her head injuries or if they were just a part of her.

The sauna was warm at that time of day from being well insulated, though it hadn’t been used yet. He waved his hand at a bench and she sat down glancing up at him warily. He nodded at her, “Tell me about the scar, Casey.”

She licked her lips and gripped the edge of the bench, wiggling a little. Then she sighed and lifted her eyes, those beautiful multi-coloured eyes that had hooked him right from the start. He had to ruthlessly calm the blood that surged through his veins and remind himself to listen carefully.

“Did Ignacio tell you much about me?” she asked. “B-before he died?”

Reyes stiffened, his gaze turning to stone. “Watch your tongue, nena,” he said with seething intensity. “Same rules apply. You are not to speak that man’s name. In answer to your question, yes, I took the… opportunity to speak to him at length about you. Whether or not he spoke the truth in his final hours remains to be seen.”

She glared up at him and he could see the internal struggle not to roll her eyes at him. She finally won the battle and dropped her gaze to the floor, choosing the self-preservation of her ass over sass. Good girl, he thought and bit back an approving grin. He knew he was often unreasonable where she was concerned. Acted more like an unpredictable caveman than a reasonable lover. He was struggling to find a balance with this equally unpredictable woman. And truth be told, he was loving every moment of their exhilarating journey together. If their present was any indication of their future, he couldn’t wait to spend a lifetime with her.

Finally, she shook her hair back, tilted her chin and snapped, “We’re not in the damn house, Reyes, the don’t-say-your-dead-husband’s-name rule doesn’t apply out here.” She just couldn’t help herself.

He stared down at her for a moment then roared in laughter, startling her. She let out a small laugh, joining him for a moment until they both calmed. They stopped and looked at each other still smiling, eyes shining in amusement. She took a breath and said, in typical Casey fashion, “He burned my hand as punishment because I tried to escape him.”

Reyes nodded gently. “I figured that much. How did you try to escape, Casey? How did he catch you?”

Her gorgeous eyes grew cloudy, but she bravely held his. “I tried to kill myself,” she whispered.

Reyes felt as though he was being plunged into a pool of ice. His body froze. He felt as though his heart stopped in that moment and then her long-fingered hands with their prominent bones, too delicate, too pale, reached into his chest and tore out his heart while it was still stopped. He’d known she was damaged. Known she was too frail for his world. And if he’d been willing to listen to his own damn subconscious, had fucking known this was coming. Had fucking known the woman he’d fallen in love with was suicidal.

In a flash his brain rewound everything, back to the night he’d made his final decision. The decision to keep Casey. Deep in his gut he knew if he’d possessed this knowledge, if he’d known his queen was capable of ending her own life he would have gone the other way. He’d have taken her out with her husband.

Now it was too late, he was in too deep. He was stuck with a defective queen.

22

Casey watched in silence as Reyes raged in front of her like a lion in a cage. She felt every one of his thoughts as though he shouted them at her. She knew them because they were things she’d said to herself in moments of terrible self-pity. She couldn’t blame him. He’d wanted more from her, but found out the worst. So, she waited patiently for him to sort through his feelings. If there was one thing she’d learned about her abductor over the past few weeks, it was that he wasn’t used to the types of emotions she was engendering in him and he needed time to process.

Also, he preferred to have her close by while he dealt with those feelings.

“Fucking hell, Casey!” he snarled.

She flinched when he slammed his fist into the wall, making the entire wooden structure shudder under the impact. Okay, time to bring the beast back under control. That was another thing she’d learned about him. While she seemed to be the cause of a wide variety of emotions in him, she also had the ability to leash his rampaging temper.

“Please Reyes,” she begged. “Will you let me explain?”

He turned back to her, his wide shoulders heaving and his eyes smoldering with helpless rage at a situation he saw as something he couldn’t control; the spiraling darkness of his chosen queen. She wanted to go to him, but this wasn’t the right moment. Not until she’d told him her story. He nodded sharply, crossing his arms and holding himself tight until his muscles bulged against the fabric of his rolled-up shirtsleeves.

She swallowed the nervousness that threatened to erupt in her throat and sorted through her foggy thoughts and memories. “Well…” she started. “It happened three years ago…”

“Don’t make it sounds like something that happened to you, woman,” he snapped, interrupting her. “You tried to kill yourself, at least own that much.”

She flinched at the derision in his voice. She’d grown used to hearing him speak to her with nothing but respect. She lifted her chin and emptied the emotion from her eyes. “If you want to hear this story, then you will listen and not interrupt again, Reyes,” she said with chilling imperiousness.

He stared back at her, his own eyes challenging and then nodded sharply for her to continue.

“You may have noticed in all the time that we were married, that Ignacio and I never had children.” She ignored the tightening of his body when she spoke her late husband’s name again. “As a cartel guy, I’m sure you can sympathize… these mafia men, they like to spread their seed, you know? Like to produce as many sons as they can as quick as they can so they can carry on the family business and keep it in the family.”

He ignored her lip. Partly because he wanted her to keep speaking and part because she wasn’t wrong. In the mob, family was everything. “No kids,” he grunted in an even voice. “Keep talking.”

“Well, it wasn’t for lack of trying…” Then she giggled. “Okay it was, he had some serious issues in that department, but let’s not get into that now. Or ever… because yuck.” When he growled she pressed her lips together and moved past her momentary amusement. “Anyway, despite Ignacio’s growing impotency, I did manage to get pregnant about… ummm… three and a half years ago. With a baby boy.”

“Fuck, nena,” Reyes said, his eyes softening. Obviously, he could see where this was going since she had no children.

She nodded sadly.

“I went into labour a few weeks early, but nothing too far out of the ordinary. The pregnancy shouldn’t have been at risk.” Her eyes fogged over and she started to drift away from him, she could feel her skin growing colder despite the warmth of the room as memories washed over her. Her voice became distant as she spoke of one of the worst times in her life, when she’d thought that she might have a family once more only to have that tiny, selfish hope flicker out and die. “Ignacio wanted me to have a natural birth at home with only his personal doctor in attendance. I was nervous, but they assured me everything was on track and I would be fine. As soon as we realized there were complications it was too late… my son… he didn’t make it. There was a lot of bleeding, I was... eventually taken to a hospital to stop the bleeding.”

Reyes swore viciously, his fists tightening against his arms. She thought he might ask her any one of a hundred questions about the horrific situation, but instead he asked her the one thing that no one ever bothered to care about. The one thing that mattered most to her. “What was his name, Casey?”

Tears spilled over her lashes and trailed down her cheeks. And for the first time she was able to admit that she was no longer his captive. Even if he opened the bars to her cage, she wouldn’t run. First of all, there was no way off this damn mountain without a helicopter license and second of all she was falling deeply in love with the only human being that seemed capable of understanding her cracked heart.

“I called him Jack,” she whispered, then a slow, sad grin spread across her face. “After Jack Skellington from the Nightmare Before Christmas. My favourite movie of all time.”

He looked lost for a moment and then he asked, more gentleness in his voice than there had been, “And the suicide attempt.”

“Ignacio blamed me for the death of what he knew was likely to be his only chance at a son. He was angrier than I’d ever seen him and I was in delicate condition, both physically and emotionally. I was experiencing classic symptoms of post-partum depression, yet the moment I was released from the hospital, he locked me up in my room and refused to allow me any help, either in the form of doctors or anti-depressants.” Casey paused for a moment, pain clouding her face once more as she remembered the loneliness and pain she’d had to endure. “Day after day I was forced to stare at my own walls, listening to his grief in the form of raging and ranting while attempting to bury my own grief. And you want to know the worst part?”

“What, nena?” he asked, though she could tell the words hurt him.

“He wouldn’t allow me to have a funeral for our son. Said because Jack wasn’t born alive, he wasn’t even a real person,” her voice broke on the last word. She lifted her hand to cover her mouth for a second before gaining the courage once more to continue. “Can you imagine? I missed the funeral for yet another of the most important people in my life.”

“Ah fuck, nena,” he whispered. “You’re breaking my heart.”

“Broke my heart too, Reyes. So I decided it was time to take my broken heart, my broken head and finish off my broken body,” she whispered, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I swallowed a package of sleeping pills with a bottle of rum… well a bottle of Malibu rum because I didn’t have the real thing. I couldn’t even manage to get suicide right,” she said with a short, bitter laugh.

He stayed silent and she could feel the tension thrumming within him from the few feet that separated them. Knew he wanted to reach out and touch her. She also knew from the incredible, undeniable connection that had held them in thrall since the very beginning that if he touched her they would both break apart and he wouldn’t hear the end of her story. So, he stood over her, watching her, protecting her as she spoke.

“Only I didn’t wake up on the other side surrounded by my family, holding baby Jack in my arms,” she said, a tiny sob escaping her lips. “I woke up in another hospital bed, this time strapped down and with a raw pain in my throat because they had to pump my stomach. I was surrounded by Ignacio, Alonzo and Diego. Two days later Ignacio was allowed to take me home. We barely walked into the mansion when he ordered the branding as punishment for daring to take the coward’s way out of our marriage.” Her eyes flared bright with remembered pain and rage. She squeezed her hand into a fist and finished. “He was pissed enough to enact this punishment himself, despite his weak stomach. He burned my flesh while Alonzo held me down and Diego watched.”

Reyes nodded, a look of utter anguish sweeping over his dark, scarred features.

“I can fix it, nena,” he said, his voice raw. He went to his knees in front of her and took her hand in his, pressing his lips against the back, touching the mark. “Fuck, Casey, for the first time in my life I feel shame. Shame because when I first saw this mark, all I could think was that I wanted to twist it, to take it for my own. To burn this beautiful flesh with my own mark.” She saw that shame deep in his soul as fury burned in his dark eyes. He looked at her from the floor, a position of significance for a man like him to take in front of a woman. “That I could ever harm my woman so brutally, strike her low, the way your late husband did, makes me sick to my soul. I swear to you, nena, I will take the mark away. You will never have to see it again.”

“Don’t do that,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers and squeezing. “I earned this mark, Reyes. It belongs to me through the pain of giving birth, of having a stillborn child, of a botched suicide attempt, of having a mean bastard for a husband. I should thank you for putting him in the ground for me. No, I think I’ll keep my scar.”

“But it will always remind you of that time in your life. What if you look at it one day and regret keeping it?” he asked, pressing the back of her hand against his cheek.

“It won’t happen. I don’t believe in regrets,” she smiled.

“What do you mean, nena?” he asked, burying his face in her lap. “Everyone has regrets.”

“Well... if you were going to do something you shouldn’t or something you might regret, then just don’t do it in the first place. Then you’ll have nothing to regret.” She shrugged. “Or if you have impulse control issues like me, then just learn from the stupid thing you did and don’t do it again, rather than looking back and spending your life wishing there were a bunch of things you’d done better. I have no regrets, Reyes, not now or ever.”

He looked back up at her, his dark eyes shining. “You are so damn beautiful, Casey. Fucking amazing.” He tugged on her hands and pulled her up until she was standing with him. “Now I need you to promise me something.”

She knew what was coming, what he would ask of her. What he was going to demand. She shook her head and tried to step away from him. She couldn’t give it.

He took her jaw in his hand, his hold gentle and bent his face to hers. She was wearing flats so he was a few inches taller than her. “No, nena, you need to listen and you need to make this promise. Because I know you and I know when you make a vow you don’t fucking break it for anything. Just like you don’t believe in regrets, you don’t break your promises.”

She pressed her lips together and squeezed her eyes shut to block him out, her only defense now that he refused to let her drift away from him.

“You promise me you’ll never try to take your own life again. Not for any reason,” he demanded his eyes glowing with a fervor that promised he would do anything to extract this vow from her and then spend a lifetime ensuring she never broke it.

“Reyes,” she whispered brokenly, tears falling again. “I can’t give you that vow.”

23

“You will,” he snarled in her face. He took her by the shoulders and gave her a quick shake until her eyes snapped open. “Tell me why the fuck not? You plan on taking your own life to escape me, is that it?” His voice escalated as this thought occurred to him. “Because that will never happen, Casey, nunca. I will make you my prisoner, wrap you in chains for the rest of your life if that’s what it takes to keep you safe.” His voice became a vicious snarl and his fingers bit into her shoulders by the time he finished.

Casey placed her hands on his chest, splaying her fingers and ran her hands up and down from his pectoral muscles to his stomach soothingly until she saw his eyes droop in response. “No, Reyes, no baby,” she breathed, stepping in close to him. “It’s not like that at all. I love it here and I love being with you. This is the best time I’ve ever had in my life. Please, you have to believe me.”

“Then why?” he demanded from between gritted teeth, “won’t you make this vow to me?”

“Because I don’t know what life will bring for me, what kind of dark twists it might have in store,” she whispered, pleading with her eyes, trying to make him understand. “And since I don’t believe in regrets, I refuse to give a vow that I might have to break if my motivation becomes powerful enough.”

He stared down at her, his expression one that she was becoming vastly familiar with; admiration mixed with fury. “Not good enough,” he growled. “Give me your word anyway, Casey. Promise you will never consider taking your own life.”

She lifted her chin defiantly. “No.”

He took the messy ponytail at the back of her head in a fist, jerked her head back and slammed his mouth over hers, taking her lips in a brutal kiss meant to punish her for her defiance. Passion rose quickly up within Casey, she threw her arms around his neck and was soon meeting him kiss for kiss enthusiastically, despite the rage simmering just below the surface of each stormy, bruising sweep of his mouth over hers. She moaned against him and opened her lips to the demanding thrust of his tongue, allowing him entry when he ruthlessly insisted.

Her workout T-shirt tore as easily as tissue paper under the angry insistence of his fist. Her bra followed and then her yoga pants and panties until she was naked under the intense assault of his stormy emotions. She stood before him, her hair tumbled down to cover her shoulders and breasts.

“Reyes, wait!” she gasped, backing up. “Not so angry, please! I don’t want it to hurt!”

He growled and made a grab for her wrist, jerking her hard against his body. She shivered when he drew her in for another fierce, punishing kiss. She moaned into his hot mouth, opening for him. She was soaking wet between her thighs, ready for whatever he threw at her. But she wasn’t used to such rage. His love-making to this point had been a simmering controlled passion that took her to heights she’d never known before Reyes. This was new. Exciting, but also terrifying.

“Make. Your. Vow.” he snarled.

“Please, Reyes…” she cried out, twisting in his arms.

He lifted her in his arms, his hands on her ass and strode backwards until he thrust her against a towel rack. She let out a small scream and gripped him hard. He stared at her, his eyes furious and filled with dark, heated lust as he sank his fingers into her body from underneath, the thick digits eased by her body’s own natural lubrication. She moaned and clung to him as she sank down onto his fingers and then arched, riding him.

“Oh fuck!” she panted, her eyes rolling back.

He leaned in and licked between her breasts before biting a path to her small, taut nipple. She gripped his head in both hands and arched shamelessly into the amazing, incredible heat of his mouth. She felt his fingers moving in and out of her slick pussy, playing with her while holding her high up off the floor. She had no idea how he managed such a maneuver and, as she built toward an explosion of epic proportions, she didn’t really care.

She closed her eyes tight, thrust her head back, slid her long, silky legs along his hips and rode his skilled fingers. Whimpers of ecstasy erupted from her throat as he slid his fingers first deep inside her, massaging her, then back out to slide and flick along her dripping slit until she went wild in his arms. He barely managed to hold her up against the wall with one straining, bulging arm considering how much she was writhing against him uncaring of the weight she was throwing at him. He slid his fingers back and forth until she thought she would burst into flames, until he was wet enough from her fluids to slide the tip of his finger into her tight ass.

“Oh god, Reyes,” she moaned, digging her fingernails into the flesh of his arms over his shirt. “Oh, oh, my fucking god!”

“Yeah, nena,” he growled. “Feels good, don’t it? You want to come baby?”

She nodded frantically. “Yes, yes please… please let me come,” she begged tossing her head back and forth against the towel rack. She reached over her head with one hand to grab it so she wouldn’t slide down the wall.

Despite the constant misfiring going on in her brain from sensual overload, she had enough awareness to wonder if this was part of a cruel plan to withhold the explosive orgasm she so badly wanted. If that was his plan then he dearly underestimated her desperation. She would do just about anything to claw her way up to that blessed orgasmic peak. She would debase herself in any way he asked. She would enthusiastically go onto her knees before him, take his cock down her throat and happily choke on him if he would give her want she needed. She would crawl, she would fuck, she would suck, she would do just about anything in that moment.

He drew the torture out even more by releasing her body further from his grip and allowing her body weight to sink her even more onto the finger he’d lodged in her ass. She moaned at the dark, slightly painful pleasure as it bit into her. She widened her knees against his hips and surged against him, crying out. Sweat beaded against her throat and he leaned in to lick and suck the exposed skin, whispering dark, sexy words of praise that drove her closer and closer to the edge.

Finally, he gave her what she wanted, he growled against her throat, “Can’t hold out against you, cariña. Too fucking gorgeous. Come for me, Casey.”

He slid his finger back and forth over her painfully engorged clit until she was shamelessly thrusting her hips against him, sliding her pussy against the buckle of his belt for even more friction, heightening the orgasm that crashed over her a few seconds later. A keening cry erupted from her throat, where her head was thrown back. His own head was bent just below her jaw. His fingers gripped her hard, tightening against her flesh as he tried to draw out the tidal wave of her orgasm while his own painful erection begged him to fuck his woman as hard as he could up against the wall.

As she started to go limp in his arms he pulled his finger from her ass, reached between their bodies and unbuckled and unzipped himself. He shoved his trousers and underwear down just enough to free his erection. Then he lifted her once more and slammed her down, sliding her soaked pussy easily over his engorged cock. She let out a scream as she was filled up with hot, demanding flesh, stretching her completely. He didn’t give her a chance to adjust or get used to the fullness of his entry. He wrapped his hands around her waist, lifted her up and began slamming her down with savage intent. He gritted his teeth and let his head drop back, planting his legs apart as the intense pleasure he could only find in the body, mind and soul of this woman wrapped itself around him and refused to let go.

“Casey,” he breathed, then again, louder. “Casey.”

She gripped his arms, hanging on as best she could while he pounded into her, allowing no release and giving no inch. She had no choice but to take what he gave as her body helplessly built back toward another, more powerful orgasm. As though he could feel the tightening within her pussy, he tipped her back against the wall, tilting his cock within her passage so he was hitting her silken walls at just the right angle to send her skyrocketing over the edge of her orgasm with a screaming bang. She reached back over her head and gripped the towel rack so hard she spared a brain cell to wonder how it didn’t pull off the wall and send her tumbling to the floor.

Casey’s legs shook as the orgasm crashed over her in waves and still Reyes was slamming himself into her. She opened her eyes to watch him, to see the beautiful strain on his face as he reached for his own release. She uncurled the fingers of one clenched hand from the wooden towel bar and reached desperately for the man that stole her heart a little more with each day, each fuck and each word he spoke.

He lifted his eyes and met hers, watched her as she watched him fuck her. He shifted his body, bringing himself in closer until he was hugging her against him. The look on his face was both tender and savage. It was so… him. Reyes wasn’t much of a poet. He was a cartel boss, a dictator and brutal killer. But damned if he didn’t hold the key to Casey.

And if he was going to give her the gift of understanding then she could give him a gift in return.

“I… will give you your vow,” she panted. “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You release me from my vow in the event of your death,” she whispered, eyes serious on his. “You bleed, I bleed. You die, I die. If you want a queen, Reyes, then you take me for all that I am.”

“Done,” he snarled thrusting into her one last time, spilling his seed. He gripped her so tight she thought she might break apart. But she trusted him not to reach that point with her; she knew he would protect her with his life and beyond. “When it’s our time, we go together, mi reina.”

Part II

Rise Up, Mi Reina

24

“Fix her or die,” Reyes shouted, pacing their bedroom liked a caged lion. Seeing Casey flinch made him immediately regret raising his voice, so he settled for glaring death at the doctor he’d flown in from Las Pas the moment she started showing symptoms of a migraine.

Casey lay curled on the bed like a broken doll where he had placed her after she’d finished her last bout of violent sickness. She’d tried to turn away from him, push his hands from her body and beg him to leave, but he refused. He would not allow her to sink into this darkness alone. How she’d survived so many years in the hell of her own head he could not possibly imagine. This was the most gut-wrenching pain he’d ever seen another human being go through, and he’d inflicted a lot of pain on others in his lifetime. Hell, if he could somehow bottle migraines and use them for torture he suspected they would be more effective than most methods.

The doctor, a thin man in his late thirties or early forties who specialized in neurological medicine eyed Reyes apprehensively while Casey moaned from between the fingers that were covering her face, “Leave the man alone. He can’t treat me if you bully him, Reyes.”

“He can,” Reyes contradicted her, but he lowered his voice so his tone wouldn’t cause more damage. He was terrified by the change in her pallor. Her already pale features had gone stark white and there was a blue tinge to her lips and fingernails indicating lack of blood flow. He turned to the doctor and said in a deadly quiet voice, “Fix her immediately.”

The doctor sighed and moved toward the bed, his hands surprisingly steady considering he was decidedly nervous. He clearly knew exactly who he was dealing with, the Reyes cartel having built a ruthless but fair reputation among the locals. His voice was shaky as he spoke, betraying his nerves. “I can’t ‘fix’ your girlfriend…”

“Wife,” Reyes cut him off.

Casey whimpered and they both looked down at her, the doctor with pity and Reyes with feral desperation. He continued to pace, every muscle in his body taut as he was forced to watch helplessly while his woman suffered. He could do nothing, torture no one, burn no cities to the ground to make her better.

“Right,” the doctor continued. “I can’t make your wife better, just more comfortable. Hopefully take some of this pain away.”

Reyes nearly reached for the man, but he restrained himself, knowing if he lost his temper he might end up murdering the man in their bedroom while Casey lay there suffering. She still needed a doctor and if he killed this one she would have to wait another forty-five minutes until Alejandro could fetch another one. Plus, word might get out that he was disposing of doctors and they could become reluctant to come to his compound. Not that he would allow their reluctance to stop him from collecting a physician, but he didn’t enjoy complications when it came to Casey’s health.

He took a deep, calming breath, gritted his teeth and said in a polite voice, “Knock her the fuck out so she can’t feel anything.”

The doctor shook his head and pulled items out of his bag including an intravenous setup and vials of medication. “Can’t do it. She needs to remain conscious or in a natural sleep.”

Reyes unholstered his gun and though he didn’t point it directly at the other man, the doctor froze and lifted his hands from where he was gently maneuvering Casey’s arm away from where she’d wrapped it tightly around her head. “Explain,” Reyes growled, his eyes filled with death.

“I’m not your wife’s regular doctor, I’ve never seen a case file and I’m not sure why she suffers from these debilitating migraines,” the doctor spoke quickly, self-preservation uppermost in his smart little mind. “I can’t administer anything that will render her unconscious. I need to make sure there won’t be swelling in the brain that might cause bleeding, or worst-case scenario a stroke.” He held up the IV and a vial of medication for Reyes to inspect. Reyes snatched the bottle from him and read the label. “I can make her far more comfortable, Señor Reyes, administer something that should take the pain away and reduce any swelling. She’ll be able to rest comfortably.”

Reyes reholstered his gun, pulled his phone out and began researching the medications the doctor was proposing to use on his beloved. He immediately found the one he was looking for and skidded to a halt on the side effects. A vein throbbed in his forehead and the scars on his face became rigid when he read the word ‘death’ and he gave the doctor a look that told the man exactly what he was reading. The man held his hands up again and backed into the side of the bed, likely correctly guessing his only ally was the woman curled on her side crying silent tears of agony.

“Worst case scenario,” the doctor mumbled hastily, “never happens!”

“Must’ve happened some time, somewhere for them to list it as a potential side effect, doc,” Reyes snarled, tossing the vial on the bed and pulling his gun again.

“For fucks sake, Reyes,” Casey gasped from the bed, surging up on her arms, surprising both men with the sudden movement. “Let the man work before I die just to escape this goddamn conversation!”

She collapsed back onto the bed with a pitiful moan. Reyes dropped his gun onto the side table and crouched over her in an instant, both contrite to have caused her pain and delay in relief while simultaneously still glaring at the doctor over her bent body. The doctor did his best to ignore Reyes while he set up his equipment and went to work on Casey, reaching out to take her limp hand in his and press a needle into the back.

Reyes growled low in his throat as he watched the large steel tip enter the tender skin. She looked too small and delicate in that moment to handle this treatment, but he knew he needed to shut up and just let the doctor work. He tried not to jostle her as he watched over her like a wary lion watching his injured mate. It destroyed him to allow another touch her while she was weak. Everything within him wanted to tear the doctor apart limb from limb. He satisfied the dark urges within by telling himself that if this fire continued to rage in his veins once the doctor completed his treatment, depending on the outcome, Reyes may give in to his baser instincts.

He bent over Casey and brushed his lips against the edge of her ear as the doctor hooked up a saline bag and two medication vials. Reyes listened without interruption this time when the doctor explained that he was administering a pain medication as well as an anti-nauseate. When he finished hooking her up he explained that she would get another dose in an hour. Reyes nodded and dismissed the doctor, telling him to come back when he was needed.

The doctor didn’t even look back, he turned around and left, relief clear in every step that took him closer to the door and away from the psychotic Bolivian cartel boss holding him hostage. Reyes held Casey, stroking her back and neck gently when she permitted his touch and backing off when she reached over to push his hand away as even those soft caresses were occasionally unbearable.

Gradually she began to relax as the saline bag emptied and the medications dripped into her system. He felt her muscles loosen and agony began to release its grip on her. She sighed and unfurled a little from her tight ball. He stroked a hand experimentally down her thigh and was pleased when she didn’t flinch away from him.

“Better?” he murmured.

“Yeah…” she moaned, relief ringing clear in her voice. “Much.”

The doctor stuck his head around the door and asked hesitantly if he could see the patient. Reyes waved the man in. “She seems to be doing better,” he said quietly, unable to tear his eyes away from her face where colour was beginning to seep back into her cheeks, staining them with a healthier pink glow. “Check on her,” he demanded. “Give her more medication.”

The doctor nodded. “Of course. I think she can take another dose and then she should sleep. This was a stressful event and her body needs rest. Her blood pressure was extremely high when I checked it.”

Reyes looked up sharply. “Check it again.”

“Of course,” the doctor agreed quickly and immediately complied. Casey made a murmur of protest when the doctor wrapped the cuff around her arm, but Reyes held her still. “A little high, but within the normal range,” the doctor confirmed.

He switched out the saline bag and gave her another dose of each medication. Casey happily drifted off to sleep under their watchful supervision now that her head wasn’t at risk of exploding. Reyes nodded his head sharply toward the door. “Walk with me.”

The doctor glanced at Casey as though she might wake up and save him from whatever horrors Reyes was about to inflict on him. Reyes almost laughed out loud. He’d become so enamored of her that he probably would allow her to have the doctor for a pet if she asked. But she was asleep so the good doctor was on his own. As soon as the door was firmly closed behind them he began speaking.

“I’m in touch with one of the best neurologists in South America and he’s going to make time to see Casey and myself in a few weeks,” Reyes said. “I understand that you have no family in La Paz. So, between now and when we fly to her appointment you will remain here and become her personal physician. Make sure she has everything she needs and does not suffer if she has another episode. Understand?”

To his credit, the doctor only gaped for about three seconds before responding in the only way he could. “Of course, señor.”

“Good man,” Reyes said and reached for the door, not wanting to leave Casey alone any longer than he had to. “Go see Alejandro, he’ll get you set up with a room. I want you nearby my wife in case of emergency.”

25

Despite the rocky start to their relationship, Casey grew progressively closer to her new doctor, Miguel Garrido, over the following days. She learned far more about neurology and her condition in just a few conversations than she had in almost a decade of unbearable headaches. At first Reyes had hovered over their meetings, relentlessly watching over Casey, pacing and demanding more answers than Dr. Garrido could give.

Finally, Casey turned to her lover with irritation while they were eating breakfast and snapped, “You need to leave us alone, Reyes. He can’t work when he’s under constant threat of death and I’m sick of your never-ending mothering.”

The look Reyes settled on her promised retribution for her emasculating comment, though his dark eyes caressed her features with amusement and he raised a thick eyebrow. He bent over her chair from behind as she chewed on a piece of melon and bit her ear. He held her still with a hand on her neck when she tried to flinch away from his teeth and whispered in her ear, “Can I trust you alone with this man, cariña?”

Shivers ran all down her spine at the way he licked the tiny bite mark he’d inflicted. She kept her eyes on her plate, her cheeks heating from the knowledge that they had an audience. She gave her head a tiny nod ‘yes’ and played with her fork wondering what he would do if she stabbed him with it; just a little. Well, she knew what he would do. Retribution as foreplay before fucking her as punishment. A better question was, how fast could she run?

Reyes lifted his eyes from Casey to the doctor, giving him one of those dead stares that made the recipients desperately wish they’d never heard his name or agreed to whatever ultimately landed them in his presence. No amount of money was worth earning that glare. “But can I trust him alone with you, nena?” he growled in her ear, his eyes unwavering from his prey.

“O-of course you can,” Dr. Garrido hastily assured him, spilling a little of his coffee as he put his cup down hard on the table. “I have no designs on your wife!”

Reyes’ nostrils flared and his body hardened against Casey’s back. He removed his gun from the holster at his side and placed it on the table with his hand casually over the top. She rolled her eyes, careful to keep them averted from his sharp gaze and picked up her own cup of coffee to take a sip as Reyes snarled, “Didn’t ask you the question, now did I?”

The doctor opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, his eyes glued to the gun. Then thought about it and opened his mouth again, clearly very unsure of what to do. Once again, as he frequently was in Reyes presence, Miguel was utterly terrified that he was about to be executed. Casey sighed and reached over her head to pet Reyes on the shoulder in an attempt to sooth her beast once more. She turned her face to his and gave him a sunny smile.

“We’ll be fine, darling,” she murmured, rubbing her lips whisper soft against his unshaven cheek.

She felt the instant easing in his muscles and marveled once more at how quickly this hard, intense man had fallen under her spell. God, he knew how to make a woman feel special, as though she were the only person that existed in his world. He absolutely adored it when she touched him, stroked him, smiled at him and called him endearments. At one time in her life she would have shrugged off such things as manipulations. But over her weeks spent with this man she was seeing these things as just… feeling good. Necessary to existing.

When Reyes didn’t move to put his gun away she turned in her seat, took his jaw in both of her hands and turned his face to hers. He allowed her presumption. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his, darting her tongue against the seam until he allowed her entrance. She gave him a quick heated kiss, drawing his attention away from the doctor, allowing the other man a hasty escape from the room. Which, of course, a man with multiple medical degrees was smart enough to take advantage of.

By the time Reyes looked up, he realized he’d been duped by his sexy but conniving woman. He grunted, took her blond braid in his fist, jerked her head back, careful not to strain her neck, and gave her a long, stinging kiss as punishment until she was moaning and begging for release. She touched her swollen lips with trembling fingers, her breath coming out in short, panting bursts while he looked down at her with dark satisfaction. When he finally allowed her up, she clutched the edge of the table for support and glared at him, “You’re such a barbarian!”

“Finish your breakfast,” he told her as he picked up his gun and turned to leave. “You may have Dr. Garrido and you may have your privacy to speak with the man. Keep to the mansion and the immediate grounds around the house.”

She nodded and smiled, her fingers still lingering on her lips. Now that the pain was receding, pleasure was beginning to blossom. She licked the taste of him from her skin, enjoying the way his velvet eyes darkened as he followed the movement. “Thank you, Reyes,” she purred huskily.

He froze in the process of moving away from her. Then he groaned and lunged for her, tearing her out of her chair by an arm and slamming her ass back against the table. “Then thank me,” he growled, his lips hovering over hers.

Her eyes lit with excitement. The enduring embers that constantly simmered within her flamed instantly to life flooding her pussy with slick heat. She moaned against his mouth and bared her teeth at him, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, calling to the savage, begging him to come out and play with her. She knew what she was doing, knew it wouldn’t take long to snap his control. In fact, she’d spent the past weeks learning him. Learning exactly what it would take to force her dark, exquisite lover. Right. Over. The. Edge.

He tore his face to one side, away from her nipping teeth, gripped her by the throat and pushed her down on the table. “You want to play, nena?” he growled down at her, his eyes glowing molten fire at her.

She licked her lips and nodded, peeking up at him from beneath her lashes. Slowly she spread her legs against the edge of the table, wiggling them past his thighs until she could inch her knees up his hips and grip his waist. Her skirt fell back, revealing a tiny thong. She knew what he saw when his eyes moved from her face to her pussy. She was very wet for him and her panties would be soaked through. She moaned and reached a hand down her body, drifting first between her breasts, fuller now from his care and attention, over her belly and across her hip.

She touched the pads of her fingertips lightly against her panties. His own hand tightened on her throat, his fingers biting into her skin. She choked a little, though she doubted he even knew he was gripping her so tight, he was so focused on what she was doing to herself. She didn’t care. She loved the things he did to her body; the way he ruthlessly brought her alive before sending her tumbling into the dark abyss of searing surrender. She slid her forefinger along the edge of her thong and then dipped it inside the sticky fabric. She smiled slightly when he frowned because the cotton crotch of her panties obscured his view.

Casey slid her finger further along the folds of her slit until she reached the entrance of her dripping vagina. Her eyes rolled back at the look of utter, ferocious worship on his face as he watched every, minute movement she made with barely leashed restraint. He was so beautiful, so perfect. His face, so savage, each scar taut as he strained with the effort it took to wait and see what she would do next.

She maneuvered another finger inside the thong, careful not to disturb the fabric, rather enjoying the control she had over him. She liked to tease her dark captor until he finally broke. She slid her fingers up and down her labia, rubbing the pads in circles along her clit whenever she reached the top, sparking waves of heat and pleasure through her quivering body. His burning eyes only made the sensation more intense as her orgasm built.

Just as Casey was about to tumble over the abyss and into the glorious arms of her orgasm, Reyes gripped her wrist and slammed her hand against the table. Her eyes flew open and she uttered a gasp of dismay. He stared down at her with a combination of fierce hunger and, now unrestrained, furious lust.

“You think to play games with me, cariña?” he growled. He pulled her fingers up to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, licking the juices from her before releasing her wrist. Then he reached between them and tore her underwear away. She cried out as stinging heat slashed across her thigh where the fabric futilely resisted his strength. “You will take your orgasms from me only if you want to play naughty games.”

He unbuckled and unzipped his pants. She felt him shift and tried to see, but he still had her pinned to the table by her throat. He shoved his cock past the barrier of his underwear, yanked her closer to the edge of the table until her thighs were forced wide against his hips. She squirmed against him. She was dripping wet for him and they’d engaged in non-stop sex for almost four weeks, but when he was like this his entry was always rough. She knew she would be sore after.

Casey cried out as he slammed full length into her, arching her chest upward as much as she could while still being held down against the hard, unyielding table. Reyes grunted as pleasure coursed through him. He leaned over her, placing a hand next to her waist and began thrusting, using her aggressively while she writhed on the table, both seeking relief from the invasion and reaching for her own building orgasm.

Reyes never failed to fulfill Casey when they came together. She didn’t know how he managed to make her come as often and as hard as he did, but she’d become greedy for everything he could provide. Soon she was begging for it, gripping the arm that still pinned her by the throat, using it for an anchor and lifting her hips to meet his thrusts as he slammed into her. She felt him approach orgasm, felt the tightening of his fingers around her throat as her pussy tightened around his body, gripping him hard. Streaks shot through her head and she chased after them, her hips lifting slightly, only to get slammed against the table with each snap of his own. She wondered if the sparks in her vision had colour or if it was her imagination.

“Ahhhh god, Reyes!” she whimpered as she exploded, digging her nails into his arm.

He grunted, his body stiffening over hers, his fingers flexing against her neck, but not tightening enough to actually cause damage, proving to her that he knew exactly what he was doing all along. He cared too much about his precious queen to ever cause harm. Tears flooded her eyes as that thought filtered through her head while she floated down and the hot gush of semen bathed her cervix. She blinked the tears back so he wouldn’t see them and think he’d hurt her. He must never think that.

Reyes carefully released her throat, trailing his knuckles across the delicate skin and over her breasts through the fabric of her shirt as he moved away, pulling out of her. She felt a trail of cooling semen on her thigh and, glancing around at the scattered dishes, giggled at their desecration of the breakfast table. She decided it was probably for the best that Miguel had taken a walk. Casey wasn’t entirely certain Reyes wouldn’t fuck her in front of an audience. He was definitely enough of a caveman to stake his claim in front of other men and then murder any witnesses.

Reyes backed away, rebuckling his belt and admiring the sprawl of his woman over the breakfast table with warm smugness. As he turned to stride from the room he said over his shoulder, “If the doctor touches you, he dies. If he leaves you to suffer in any way without immediate relief, he will wish for death long before he dies.”

“These death threats are getting old, Reyes!” she called after him, shoving herself up on an elbow and reaching for another piece of melon.

Once he left, she hastily scrambled off the table and rearranged her outfit before going to her bedroom for another pair of panties and then searching out the doctor. She was a bit worried he might be looking for an escape route off their extremely fortified mountain.

She found him a few minutes later, but felt it wiser to keep Reyes’ stipulations for their forthcoming private meetings to herself. She did, however, outline where they were to walk and tentatively discuss which medications she should be taking and how she should get hold of the doctor when they weren’t together and she needed him.

Miguel was surprisingly at ease in her presence and they became fast friends over the following weeks. He even agreed to accompany them to Casey’s appointment in Brazil, at Casey’s begging and with multiple promises that Reyes would be on his best behaviour.

“I’m just going to be so much more comfortable with you there,” Casey enthused, her arm looped through Miguel’s as they boarded Reyes private plane in La Paz. “I want you to be able to give your professional opinion every step of the way. I trust you completely.”

Reyes snorted from behind them. Casey tossed him a scathing look over her shoulder and lifted the frozen drink he’d bought for her to her lips. She’d craved a Slurpee since leaving America and bugged Reyes pretty constantly about it every time he said something extra awful to her new best friend as a form of revenge. He’d finally broken down and found her one on the way to the airport. His eyes went rapidly from annoyance over her grip on Miguel’s arm to blazing lust as her lips, now stained bright pink from the cherry-flavoured Slurpee, wrapped around the straw and sucked eagerly at the sweet treat.

“Fuck,” he growled and reached for her other arm, yanking her back against his chest and away from Miguel’s touch. “You like to tease me and play with another man’s life, nena?”

She giggled while the doctor pretended not to hear the exchange. Once they boarded, Casey made a point of sitting next to her doctor friend while Reyes sat with his men. The space was small enough that his razor-sharp gaze could watch his woman at all times. He was not remotely worried about her interactions with the relatively youthful neurologist, but he didn’t particularly like anyone near her for any length of time.

As with their last flight, Casey watched everything about the takeoff with fascinated enthusiasm while Reyes watched his woman, his face impassive, his gaze hungry as always. After the plane lifted above the clouds and the beautiful mountain scenery no longer captured her attention, she turned to the doctor and asked the question that wouldn’t stop gnawing at her. Her anxiety increasing the closer they got to Brazil.

“What if they find something in my head?” Casey whispered, her worried eyes on Miguel’s face.

“You mean like a tumor?” he asked bluntly, addressing her worst fear. How could a person have such debilitating migraines and not have something seriously wrong with them? Yet he’d reassured her over and over that the likelihood of tumor was astronomically slim.

She nodded her head, but his words did assuage her fears; she knew it showed on her face so once more Miguel went over the facts with her.

“We’ve been over this many times, Casey. If you had a mass in your brain, there would be many more signs and your headaches would have gotten progressively worse over the years. But your coordination and motor skills are fine. Your vision is fine, except for the colour-blindness, which you’ve had since birth. You do admit to some memory loss, but this seems to be a by-product of your accident.” He covered her hand in his and squeezed. “Be brave, Casey. This is one of the best neuro-clinics in the world. The scans and the x-rays will only help to reassure you. Don’t fear what they’ll tell you. They’ll give us better ways to cope with the headaches.”

Casey liked the way he said ‘us’. Ignoring Reyes’ typical murderous glare, she looped her arm through Miguel’s and held on to him for a while, needing his steady, calming reassurance. She’d gone from a complete lack of touch in her life to now basking in the glorious caresses of her lover and the completely plutonic, but nonetheless reassuring presence of her doctor. If Reyes didn’t like that she was giving her attention to both men, he could jump off an airplane. He’d gotten her a doctor for her safety and sanity and she was finding comfort in his gift.

She snuggled back in her seat with a sigh and closed her eyes. She tilted her head slightly toward Miguel, though not completely leaning on his shoulder. After all, she wasn’t totally trying to get the man killed. She would accept his reassurances along with the solid, protective strength that Reyes surrounded her with and be brave for her upcoming ordeal.

26

Casey wasn’t happy. And when Casey wasn’t happy, Reyes wasn’t happy. She was sitting in a private room at the Brazilian clinic with her lover pacing close by and his men standing off to the side, watching over their charges. All these big men in the small room absolutely dwarfed the space, until Reyes finally growled at two of them to take a walk, leaving only Reyes, Alejandro and Casey behind.

Casey gripped the edge of the uncomfortable plastic chair until her knuckles were white. She rocked back and forth, back and forth. Her ankles were crossed and tucked under the chair. She wondered why a clinic as expensive as this place didn’t invest in better chairs. Maybe they didn’t know. Maybe someone should tell them. Maybe they had a comment box. Maybe they spent too much money on their high-end lab equipment and couldn’t afford decent chairs. Perhaps she would get Reyes to donate better chairs once they flew back to La Paz and she was safely away from this place. Unless she actually did have a tumor. Then she was going to sue them; because she was vindictive that way, not because it was actually their fault she had a tumor.

Casey sighed and reached for the end of the string on the neck of her hoodie and put it in her mouth to chew on nervously. She wasn’t actually going to sue the clinic or let Reyes do anything evil to the doctors. She wasn’t truly vindictive. She was just scared. She shifted in her seat again and pulled her long legs up to sit cross-legged, glad she’d chosen comfort over sophistication when she dressed this morning.

They’d arrived last night in Rio de Janeiro and stayed in a luxury hotel. This morning she’d chosen a pair of leggings, a black hoodie with a rose dipped in blood on the front and a pair of Sketchers. She’d piled her hair on top of her head in a knot, which had long since come loose to tumble in waves down her back. She wasn’t sure where the elastic had gone and the loss was really bothering her. Was the hair elastic still in the break room? Or maybe it had fallen in the MRI machine?

Most of her time at the clinic had been spent waiting to be called in between tests. Casey personally thought Reyes did a remarkable job of not freaking out with how long everything was taking and how many people touched her, though Casey was certain the doctors thought otherwise. His vicious caveman was firmly in place the entire time. He particularly hadn’t liked the MRI machine, nor anything that required her having to get undressed. He’d stood beside her for each procedure, his bulging arms crossed, his death glare firmly in place. When he was forced to leave her side, the poor doctor asked Alejandro to explain the procedure and then took off in case Reyes objected. Each needle, each test had to be fully and completely explained before anything was allowed to touch her and even then, it usually took Casey herself arguing him into compliance. She began to wonder how they weren’t kicked out of the clinic and asked never to return.

Money and power.

Casey lifted her eyes and watched the men in the room. A soft bubble of laugher erupted from her. Alejandro and Reyes looked as nervous as she felt, which, oddly, settled the butterflies in her stomach. Reyes, of course, looked fiercely protective as he paced from the window back to the chair where she sat, absently brushing his large, rough fingers across the fine strands of her hair as he passed.

Alejandro had taken up a post by the window where he squinted with deadly concentration out into the parking lot two stories down, the set of his shoulders filled with tension. Casey could only surmise that her current situation was causing him worry since she didn’t think there was any worry of an imminent attack. She watched him with affection. The off-putting Bolivian seemed to soften towards her over the past several weeks. It was clear that he found her absurd statements hilarious and would erupt in a full-bodied laugh whenever she said or did anything that set the boss off. He’d even taken it upon himself a few times to poke the beast just to get Casey going. She’d known what he was up to and thought it was pretty funny.

Miguel was with the other neurologists reviewing the test results. The clinic doctors had been kind enough to invite him as a professional courtesy to consult with them knowing that he would be treating Casey in the foreseeable future. Casey was extremely grateful. She’s grown to trust Miguel implicitly.

Finally, after what felt like a decade had passed in that small, airless room, the door opened and Miguel entered with two of the clinic doctors. Just in time, she thought. She was positive that Reyes was about to start tearing heads off and demanding answers.

The breath rushed from her lungs and Casey felt faint. She could tell immediately from the look on Miguel’s face that something was gravely wrong. His olive skin had an ashen tone and he refused to meet her eyes. Tears filled her eyes and she dug her fingers into her knees, attempting to pinch her skin hard enough to infuse some courage into her body. She wanted to open her mouth, to say the words and confront the truth. To be the first one to fill the silence. But the truth was, Casey was a coward. Her time with Reyes helped her to realize that she’d never been able to face the truth of a situation. She had avoided reality because it was too scary for her.

Finally, she managed to square her shoulders and look up, her face hard. Reyes and Alejandro came to stand on either side of her, like sentinels. It was almost laughable how much support she had in these big, strong immovable men with a wealth of power behind them compared to before with Ignacio. Reyes would move mountains, burn cities and search relentlessly for answers if it meant helping her.

Reyes placed his hand on her shoulder and without looking at her, demanded, “Tell us what you found.”

“Señor…” the head neurologist spoke hesitantly. Casey began to feel faint. Did she actually have a tumor? Had the impossible really become possible after all? “Perhaps you would like to speak with us in the hallway first.”

The panic rose up through her and waves of dizziness washed over her. But she desperately fought against fainting, she needed to know her fate. She carefully inched her hand up toward Reyes until she was clasping his hand where it rested on her shoulder. He still refused to look at her, but she could tell from the tension in his body that he was desperately worried. His body vibrated with the telltale signs of growing rage that threatened to erupt in violence.

His voice betrayed none of this when he spoke with chilly precision, “Speak. My wife is a strong woman. She can handle whatever you have to say.”

Casey closed her eyes, took a deep breath and slowly stiffened her spine, stacking it until she was sitting as straight as she possibly could. When she opened her eyes, she fixed them on the wall between Miguel, who stared at the floor between his feet in utter dejection, and the other doctor. She wondered if Miguel was regretting his decision to hang with the other doctors. His intentions had been good. He’d get to learn some new techniques, share some professional expertise and help in the decision-making process when it ultimately came to the best interests of his patient. Now he didn’t seem so keen on the idea. He looked ready to bolt.

They all looked ready to bolt.

“Please,” Casey said in the same tone of voice Reyes had used. Chilly and commanding. “Tell us what you found.”

The doctor gave her a clipped nod and pulled up one the plastic chairs so he was sitting opposite of her when he spoke. Casey respected him a little more when he pulled that move, considering her sentinels both stiffened and looked utterly unimpressed with the man’s proximity to his patient. Apparently, Reyes was finished with having these people anywhere near his woman. She squeezed his hand so he wouldn’t attack the man before she got her much needed information.

The doctor addressed only her, plunging directly into his findings with no preliminaries. “Your initial bloodwork findings have come back normal, there doesn’t seem to be any hormonal issues that are causing your migraines, though we’ll send it away for further checks. And of course, as we explained earlier, research in this field is always developing.”

Casey tried hard not to roll her eyes and waved her hand impatiently at him. He’d gone over most of this already. She’d been pretty positive her migraines weren’t hormone related. Obviously, he was stalling as he built toward what was actually wrong with her.

He leaned forward, shifting in the chair. She thought she detected a slight wince. See, the chairs are horrible! You monsters torture us with the chairs and the MRI machines! she wanted to shout at him, but dug her fingers into the back of Reyes’ hand instead. He didn’t even twitch as she sank her nails into his flesh, knowing the pasty doctor was working his way toward a truth that would shatter her. She wondered where he was from. He really was quite pale, and to a woman with colour-blindness a person almost had to glow for that to become apparent. His accent seemed European or something. And his name… what was his name again? She frowned. Oh, his lips were moving again. Time to tune back in.

“… Your MRI came back completely normal.”

Casey frowned when he stopped talking and simply looked at her. She waited for him to go on with more of an explanation. There had to be something. Something to explain the migraines, the memory loss, the weird personality ticks, the drifts she took. It couldn’t all be the trauma of a failed marriage. It had to be physical. Or… or she was weak; too weak to run an empire with Reyes.

When the doctor didn’t give her any further explanation, she said in a voice dripping with ice, “Then explain the memory loss.”

The doctor’s face softened with sympathy and he reached out to take the hand that had clenched tightly in her lap. Reyes reacted immediately, snarling in response, “You’ve touched her enough for one day. Touch again without permission and lose a hand. Get on with your findings and move on to the next patient.”

The doctor’s face blanched and his head snapped up. He gaped at Reyes for a solid ten seconds before he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Casey would have felt bad for him if her butt wasn’t so numb. A private clinic really ought to afford better furniture!

“Right!” The doctor hurried to open the file he’d been clutching between his legs. Casey glanced back sharply at Miguel who’d shifted uncomfortably and looked even more upset than before. Really, the man looked as though he was going to cry! They must now be approaching the upsetting news.

“It’s a tumor, isn’t it?” Casey blurted out tearfully.

“Of course not, Mrs. Reyes,” the other doctor that had remained silent throughout the entire procedure, and, in fact, most of the day, murmured soothingly. “You’re clear on any form of mass. Benign or otherwise.” She smiled kindly.

Casey smiled back tremulously, grateful for the straight answer. Jesus, she’d wished that particular doctor had been the one giving her the news. She seemed to have a better bedside manner than all the men put together. And Casey would bet money that she’d pick better chairs too.

“Then what the fuck is wrong with my wife?” Reyes snapped, finally losing patience and giving the room his favourite ‘I’m about to fuck shit up until I get all the answers’ glare. Casey giggled, despite her tension. She loved when he got all protective and angry. It made her feel warm and fuzzy.

The doctor cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, putting some distance between himself, the mafioso couple and their equally terrifying second-in-command. He spoke quickly and directly, “While Casey’s bloodwork and MRI are normal, her x-ray has shown anomalies. The fracture lines in her skull are not consistent with an impact from a car crash.”

Reyes’ fingers bit deep into Casey’s shoulder causing her to squirm. She expected him to say something, to rage and demand answers. In fact, she waited breathlessly for him to do just that. When he remained silent at her side, continuing to bruise the tender flesh of her shoulder, she tilted her head back, her hair shifting against the hood of her sweater and gave him a questioning look. He looked back down at her, his own expression completely blank.

Her lips parted and her eyes widened in accusation. “Y-you knew?” she whispered.

She didn’t need an answer. His lack of reaction told her everything. She tried to force her frozen brain to work, tried to understand what was happening in the room around her. The subtle shifting of the bodies. The painful bite of Reyes fingers. She reached up and pried his fingers away. He allowed it. She was under no illusion that she could have removed his hand if he wanted to keep it there. No, he was giving her the distance she craved in that moment.

He knew. He fucking knew. Which meant they’d come to Brazil not to find answers, but to find confirmation of some kind.

She lifted accusatory eyes to his and said coldly, “Ignacio told you something, didn’t he? Before he died.”

Still his face remained flat. She uncurled her fingers and tensed, preparing to fly at him, rake her fingers down his impassive, scarred face until he told her the truth, told her what her late husband had told him before Reyes killed him. How had she ever trusted this man? A heavy hand landed on Casey’s other shoulder, pinning her to the chair. She jumped, her head snapping around to confront the one that dared touch her while her heart was in the process of shattering.

Alejandro gave her a slight shake of the head. He’d read her mind and was telling her not to attack Reyes. She took a deep breath and ruthlessly brought herself under control. He was right. She’d grown comfortable with Reyes as her lover, her confidant and even, sometimes, her friend. But he was still the Bolivian boss. If she attacked him in a room full of people, he would have to retaliate; to brutally, ruthlessly shut her down. He could not afford to show weakness. Not with her, not with anyone.

With Alejandro’s warm, comforting touch and Reyes dark presence at her side she turned to the doctor and demanded, her voice imperious, “Tell me the rest.”

He nodded, his eyes on hers, a mixture of awe and pity. He opened the file and removed the x-ray, holding it out for her to see. “It’s remarkable really, how well your brain has healed from the type of injury we’re seeing here. Your description of multiple surgeries and a five-week medically induced coma are consistent with this type of trauma. I believe that the migraines are probably a result of the original trauma that occurred when you were eighteen though we aren’t able to absolutely confirm this diagnosis. We can, however, give you better medications to help manage the symptoms.”

She brushed off his reassurances and focused on the one important word he kept saying over and over again. “What trauma?”

He dropped his eyes, finally refusing to look her in the face. The room seemed to go completely still and she realized every single person in the room knew the truth of what was on the x-ray except for her. She stared at it, forcing her brain to acknowledge what everyone else could see, but she was somehow missing.

The doctor touched the photo and traced the tip of his fingernail along something she still couldn’t understand. A delicate pattern of some kind radiating out from a dark spot. Without looking up, he said softly, “Gunshot wound to the head.”

27

“Impossible!” Casey snapped after a moment of silence. “I was in a car wreck. It killed my entire family!”

No one moved. No one said anything. They simply waited, statues in a still room as denial crashed over her. She felt hot. Prickles of heat penetrating all down her skin as some kind of truth tried to sweep over her. She shook her head and then she pushed her shoulders up, shrugging Alejandro’s hand away. He knew. He knew just as much as Reyes had known. They’d all known.

But they were wrong.

Her family had died on a highway. She slammed her eyes shut and buried her hands in her hair, gripping the pale blond strands in tight fists as she forced herself to conjure a memory that wouldn’t come. Had never come. A memory of a happy family driving, screeching brakes, twisting metal, the smell of fire, people screaming, ambulance sirens. Nothing. There was nothing. There had never been any memories of the accident.

Ignacio and his doctor had assured her the trauma was too great and that she would probably never remember. A sob escaped her lips. She opened her hand and smacked herself in the side of the head. Something was trying to surface. Another memory, something powerful was rising up. Dark and swirling, images flashing like a movie in fast forward. Glimpses of something she couldn’t hold on to.

“Leave.”

Casey barely registered his voice as Reyes ordered everyone out of the room. She wanted him to go too. Wanted him to leave her alone while she floundered in the murky blackness of her own brain. But she knew he wouldn’t. He would relentlessly watch over her. Whether she wanted it or not.

She felt the heat of Alejandro leave her side. Felt the coolness down her side and registered the closing of the door as they were left alone together. Deciding her ass had been numb for long enough she tried pushing herself off the chair, but her body had other ideas and she slid to the floor instead, landing with a thump on her knees on the cheap linoleum. Reyes tried reaching for her, but Casey snarled and slashed her hand at him.

“Don’t touch me!” she yelled, her voice echoing in the room.

She felt the instant tension snap through his body, knew he wouldn’t allow this kind of insult pass from anyone else, no matter what kind of day they were having. She waited for retaliation, waited for him to haul her to her feet and force her compliance. She was weakening before his eyes. She wasn’t the woman he’d been spending weeks loving and building up, preparing for a position at his side. She was the pathetic creature he’d found in Miami.

He didn’t say a word though. He just stared down at her as she continued to sink into the pit of swirling dizziness capturing her mind and sweeping her along on a tidal wave of madness. Shot in the head. She’d been shot in the head. She should be dead… but she wasn’t. Her family was though. She lifted accusing eyes to the man that could give her the answers.

Her voice was hoarse but strong when she spoke. “They were shot too, weren’t they?” she demanded. “There was never any car wreck. All of them were shot. My mom, my dad, my brother and sisters. All murdered.”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

She screamed, the sound tearing from her throat as rage and sorrow crashed through her chest and erupted out of her mouth. It echoed through the room. She rocked back on her heels and screamed until she couldn’t anymore, until her voice died away into soft cries. Reyes didn’t try to touch her this time though. She saw him flinch for just a second and something like anguish cross his features before he reverted to his impassive expression. He felt her pain as it rippled through her body. As denial fell away and reality settled on her shoulders like a bleak, shadowy cloak. She pictured the horrific way in which her family had died. Had they died one at a time, execution-style or had they been slaughtered like animals as they’d tried to run?

“But I survived,” she said, drawing herself up on her knees. Awe, terror and despair mixed in her voice as she processed the magnitude of her new truth. “I survived getting shot in the fucking head.”

He nodded, his eyes meeting hers. He allowed her to see his vulnerability, the sheer relief he felt that she’d survived. He wasn’t even going to pretend that he was detached about the possibility of her having died. They’d gone past that point in their relationship. Too much had happened to them.

Casey struggled to her feet. Reyes reached out to help her but she slapped his arm away and then gave him a hard shove for good measure. She could feel the tightening of his body, the need for him to grab her, to take what he wanted regardless of her feelings. She saw the powerful ripple of muscle down his arms and the tendons in his neck stand out as he gritted his teeth and glared at her.

She stood her ground though, fists clenched and hissed at him, “You knew and you brought me here!”

He nodded in confirmation, but said, “Choose your words carefully, nena. I know you’re hurting, but I am still your master, your king.”

She bared her teeth at him. “What are you going to do, Reyes, finish the job?” she snarled, pointing a finger at his chest.

He grabbed her wrist so swiftly she barely had a chance to back up before he was slamming her into the wall behind them. “Is that what you want, Casey?” he growled into her face, reaching for her other wrist and dragging her arms over her head. “You want me to finish the job? Because I won’t allow this. Mi reina will stand strong or she will die. You decide.”

She thrust her chin out at him, growling back in defiance, tempted to tell him that he was welcome to finish the job, but then something pushed at the edge of her consciousness; a memory that was waking up slowly, stalking forward. She gasped, her vision flooding with something. A horrible, terrible colour. Red maybe… yes it must be red, this terrible thing that washed over everything. Then the memory flooded in as though it had been waiting for this moment, whispering in the wings of her subconscious, fluttering until she was either strong enough to handle it or weak enough that she could no longer deny it.

She saw them all. Lined up on their knees, begging for their lives. Her parents begging for the lives of their children as they were shot one at a time execution-style by a group of men. Then she saw… she saw… Ignacio… standing over her, a look of almost longing or maybe loss on his face as he turned away and pulled the trigger. Then she fell. But she was still conscious as she lay on the floor, blood seeping from her head, across her face, dripping from her chin as she watched her family die. She blinked. Mother down. Blink. Sister down. Blink. All down.

Red. Is that what this colour is? This shadowy thing spreading out across the floor from her face as Ignacio and his men walked away from her.

Blink. Inky, cold blackness.

“Casey?” Reyes’ voice pulled her back, his hands tightened on her wrists reminding her that she had always been his pawn.

“You brought me here, to the clinic, to find out for sure. Didn’t you?” she whispered.

He didn’t lie to her. That was one thing she admired about Reyes, even while he gripped something inside of her and crushed it. “Yes, nena, I needed to know if Ignacio was confessing the truth. Not all men are honest under torture,” he told her brutally. “But I also wanted to know if they could help you here. Give you something to ease your headaches.”

She stared up at him with something approaching hatred. “Take your hands off me! Leave me alone!” she snarled.

“Never!” he thundered back at her, finally snapping under the pressure of seeing his woman take constant hits and being unable to do anything about it. “I will never leave you alone, Casey Reyes.”

“Reyes is not my name,” she said scathingly, fury vibrating through every word. “I am not your wife. The name I carry is tainted with the blood of my family.”

“You will marry me, nena, and you will take my name,” he snarled, lowering his mouth to hers and pressing it gently against the curve of her trembling lips despite the violence swirling around them. “Nothing less is acceptable. You have belonged to me from the moment I set eyes on you. From your fucked-up eyes, the grey world you live in, the pain in your head to the mark on your hand. It all belongs to me. It’s mine, Casey, you understand?”

Her heart pounded at the intensity of his words while tears seeped from her eyes as visions of her dead family continued to flash through her brain, tormenting her in a vivid re-play like it had happened only yesterday instead of a decade ago. He continued to brush his lips against hers, soothingly, possessively.

“You want to marry me, Reyes?” she whispered, her breath shuddering against him as his tongue dipped out to taste the edge of her mouth. “You want to keep me forever? Willing and heart whole?”

He opened his eyes and looked into hers. Burning heat from that dark, possessive gaze. She knew what he was telling her. He could take her and keep her without her permission. He’d already done it. But she also sensed the longing within him. The longing for his queen; the woman that could willingly stand strong and reign by his side.

“What will it take?” he asked.

She smiled without warmth, her lips curving against his. “I want everyone involved in the death of my family. The person that gave the order, the people that covered it up, the men that pulled the triggers. Everyone. I want to kill them all, Reyes.”

She felt the catch in his breath. His fingers bit into the flesh of her hip and he slammed her against the wall, pressing his hard erection against the cradle of her thighs. Her bloodthirsty declaration had turned him on. “You have my word, mi reina,” he growled against her mouth before slanting his lips over hers. Casey tugged her wrists from his restraining hold, buried her hands in his hair and kissed him back.

I want to see red, she thought, I won’t rest until I see red again, as she drifted in a haze of hate and desire.

28

“Casey, ven aqui ahora!”

The thunder in Reyes’ voice was enough to send the birds in the bushes fleeing for the skies. Casey stiffened but didn’t turn to look at the man emerging from the house to shout at her back. When she didn’t immediately respond to his demand, she felt the snapping anger in his demeanor reach out for her across the expansive yard. Then she heard him stalk toward her as he moved with the lethal grace of a jungle cat. She could tell from the edginess of the nearby guards that he was making his way toward her. She stiffened her posture, but maintained her position next to the fountain at the back of their colossal mansion.

She’d been avoiding him for more than a week, since their arrival back from Brazil. She had murmured that she’d needed space and even lied to him, telling him she’d had a vicious headache. When he’d questioned her, she’d assured him it wasn’t a full-blown migraine, but that it was bad enough for her to require her own room so she couldn’t be disturbed. He had been annoyed and flat out refused, but her arguments had won him over. What if he disturbed her in her sleep, jostled her head? She had assured him it would only be temporary. But she knew he was losing patience. And, apparently, it was now gone.

Casey wanted to feel bad for lying. For being disloyal to the man that was tirelessly searching for her family’s killers so he could present their heads on a platter to his chosen queen. But she couldn’t bring herself to feel guilty for misleading the person who had known all along and never said a word. It should have been him to tell her about her family. About the hole in her head; the damage to her brain. In her heart, she felt like he’d built her up only to cut her adrift when she needed him most.

He seized her from behind and flung her around to face him. She was wearing heels so she was face to face with him when she turned. Perhaps she’d sensed this confrontation coming. Knew that he’d had enough of her illusiveness.

“I told you to come to me,” he snarled, his dark eyes livid with warning. “You do as I tell you, every time I tell you, when I tell you to do it, Casey.”

Casey knew she was skating the dangerous edge of his patience, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She tugged her arm, trying to pull it from his grip. His fingers dug into her flesh, refusing to give up his hold. She pressed her lips together and said, “I’m not your dog, Reyes. I don’t have to come when I’m called.”

His nostrils flared in reaction and she winced at the brutal tightening of his hand. There would definitely be bruises later. “And this is how you want to play it with me, nena?” he asked, his voice surprisingly quiet considering the waves of anger pouring from his body. “After I have allowed you a week of space. Allowed you to lie to me, to go to another room and withhold your body from me? I have given you all the tenderness and understanding a man in my position is capable of.” He stared hard at her, allowing his heated gaze to linger on her lips before moving back to her eyes so she could see the determination there. Her grace period was definitely over. “You want to be very careful in your next words, mi amor.”

Her eyes traced over the scars on his face; the scars that declared him king. The deep, pitted lines that marked his battles and made him the hardened leader that he was. He was tough and commanding, everything that she was not and never could be. She didn’t understand why he wanted her. She was nothing to a man like him. She should have died on that floor with the rest of her family. She was a fake survivor. A ghost living in the shell of a broken woman. She was a false queen.

She turned her head to look away from him toward the mountains across from their hidden valley. Their home was really spectacularly beautiful and if she was being honest with herself, truly honest, if she could have chosen to live anywhere in the world, despite having been essentially brought here against her will, she would have chosen this place anyway. It was breathtaking.

“Just go away and leave me alone, Reyes,” she murmured absently, her eyes taking on an unfocused faraway look as she continued to gaze into the distance.

She felt the heat of his rising anger wash over her as he clasped his hand over her other arm and shook her until her head snapped up. “Look at me, damn you,” he gritted from between clenched teeth. When she finally did, forcing herself to focus on his blazingly angry, dark face, he spoke again, his voice throbbing with quiet authority. “Last chance, Casey. It’s time for you to stop drifting and come back to me now. Let’s do this the easy way, cariña.”

She studied him for a moment, tempted to give in. Tempted to recapture the weeks before she remembered what happened to her family, before she found out what had happened to her, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t trust him. And worse, she couldn’t trust herself. She wasn’t brave, she wasn’t strong, she was just… numb to everything. She was the pale imitation of a woman who should’ve died ten years ago.

“Fuck you, Reyes!” she spat, smacking his chest with her open palm. “You don’t get a say in what I do. You withheld the truth from me. You broke me just as much as Ignacio ever did, maybe worse. If this is how I choose to deal, then you get no say in the matter.”

A part of her knew she was being too hard on him, that he’d had her best interests at heart. That he could have kept the truth from her indefinitely if he’d chosen. But she was so damn angry and in so much pain over the fresh feelings of loss that she couldn’t seem to control herself and Reyes was the only one she could strike out at. So rather than heed the inner voice telling her to step carefully with the vicious mob boss, she struck out at him.

“You dare to say his name to me?” Reyes growled dangerously, “You dare to compare me to that weak-willed excuse for a man?” His voice rose in a snarl as he said, “His name does not pass your lips again, understand?”

“What are you going to do about it?” she charged back at him.

“I’m going to wake you the fuck up,” he snarled and turned, hauling her with him, heading toward the house.

Casey thought he meant to drag her inside the house and up to their bedroom, but he didn’t. Instead he skirted the house and strode toward a side of the compound she had never been to before. She could barely keep up to him in her high heels and with his long, agitated strides. She had to run and was sadly out of breath when they arrived at a nondescript concrete building. It’s very blandness was utterly terrifying.

“Wh-where are we?” she asked hesitantly, clutching at a stitch in her side and trying to hide her panic.

He ignored her question, instead nodding sharply at a guard stationed by the door. The guard opened the door for them and stood aside to let them pass. Reyes readjusted his grip on her elbow when she tried digging her heels in and dragged her through the doorway and into a dimly lit hallway that screamed ‘once you enter this passageway, you will never exit.’ Casey walk-stumbled after Reyes as he pulled her impatiently down one long corridor after another.

“I-is this some kind of prison?” Casey asked timidly.

“Yes.” His answer was immediate and clipped, not inviting further commentary, but the sheer size of the building prompted her to speak up.

“How many people do you keep in here?” she asked incredulously.

He didn’t answer, instead, stopping so abruptly that she nearly ran into his back. He punched a code into the panel next to a thick, metal door, pushing it open when a little light flashed. He dragged her through the door and gave her a shove into a small, airless room; finally releasing her. Casey rubbed her arm and looked around her in utter dismay, terror swirling around the pit of her stomach and crawling up her throat. She was in some kind of prison cell. The door slammed shut, echoing ominously in the horrible room. She swung around, her arms wrapped protectively around herself.

Reyes stood facing her, locked in with her. She shivered, apprehension crawling up and down her spine. She almost wished he’d locked her in and left. Nothing good could come of the dead-eyed look he was giving her. She was positive it was the same look he gave the people he tortured horribly for whatever information he needed from them right before he sent them to a grisly, bloody death. The same look he’d given Ignacio.

“Please…” she whispered, backing away from him.

“You had your chance, nena. I believe you told me to fuck off, that I had no say in how you dealt with your grief,” he told her coldly, stalking toward her. He tugged at the hem of his shirt and then pulled it over his head. She watched in horrified fascination as he revealed his beautiful tanned torso, littered with scars. He let his shirt drop to the floor and snaked an arm out for her. Casey threw her hand up to block him, but he grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward him, pulling her against his chest and snarling in her face, icy disdain giving way to heated rage.

“And I’m telling you,” he growled into her face. “Every fucking thing about you is my business. Your happiness, your sadness, your grief, your very life. Your everything. You’re about to learn how much you belong to me, Casey.”

She whimpered, terror streaking through her veins with each word. She began fighting him as he started removing her clothes with ruthless efficiency, ignoring her cries of fright. He stripped off each article of clothing until she stood naked and shivering in front of him. She wasn’t shaking from cold, but from the humiliation of being dragged from the yard into a prison and stripped bare. She was shaking from fear of the unknown and from fear of the look in his eyes. Reyes was looking at her without pity and without mercy. She knew her pleas would fall on deaf ears. He was going to do whatever he’d planned on doing. She’d had her chance to give him what he wanted and she threw it in his face without grace or the gratefulness a man in his position expected. Now she would pay.

Casey frantically searched the space around her, looking for anything that might help her. A way out, a way to fight him off… anything. Then her panicked eyes landed on something that nearly sent her spiraling into the dark places in her head. Chains. He had chains in his dungeon. Because now there was nothing else she could call this place he’d dragged her into. Her frantic search also yielded a long steel bench and a floor drain. Oh god. This was some catastrophic shit.

Was he finally done with her? Was this it? Had he brought her to this awful place to kill her?

Without any sort of preliminaries, Reyes flung her around so she was facing away from him and dragged her toward the metal bench. Casey fought him with everything she had, but her strength was absolutely nothing compared his, nothing! He looped an arm across her slim waist and lifted her off the floor.

“No, no, no!” she screamed, kicking her feet into the air and trying to pry his arm from her, expecting at any moment to feel the cold caress of a blade at her throat.

The most terrifying part was his lack of words. He said nothing to her as she screamed and cursed at him and then calmed enough to beg him to stop whatever he was doing. He simply held her off the floor, pinned against the warmth of his hard chest and waited her out until she tired and lay whimpering against him. Then he shoved her abruptly forward, facedown over the metal bench.

Casey surged up with a hoarse scream, throwing her head back, hoping to crack her skull into his nose. He was a trained combatant though and easily ducked her inexperienced hit. He held her down with a knee in the middle of her back and placed a broad palm over her head, holding her cheek against the cold metal. He reached over her and yanked one of the chains down from the wall, pulling it toward her pinned body.

“Oh god, please stop,” she begged. “Please don’t, Reyes! I’m sorry, I’ll come back to your bed!”

He continued to ignore her as he clasped the metal around her wrist and adjusted the size to fit her slim wrist with such easy precision that she realized he’d had plenty of practice. A shiver of fear wracked her naked body. He reached over her head, the heat from his naked chest warming her back and pulled the chain on the other side down. Casey tried to pull her hand underneath her body in a desperate attempt to hide it from him, but he pried it out and snapped the cuff over her other wrist.

Once she was secure, he backed away from her, trailing his fingers from her head down her back, across her spine and ending in a hard slap across her ass. Casey yelped and jerked. The chains were loose enough that she could rear back. Reyes immediately remedied that. He slid something along the wall, which adjusted the chains until she was forced to lay with her torso flat against the cold bench, her knees on the floor her arms spread wide.

A sacrifice.

29

Casey shivered helplessly, whimpers of fear erupting from her throat. She managed to bring herself under control enough to ask, “A-are you going to k-kill me?” her voice sounded unnaturally high-pitched as it echoed through the room.

She tried to crane her head back to she could see him where he stood behind her, but it put too much strain on her shoulders and she was forced to lay with her cheek against the cool metal staring at her right wrist chained above the bench. She jumped and cried out as his palm landed harshly across first one of her ass cheeks and then the other.

“Now why, after I have gone through all this trouble to acquire you and assure your health, would I simply dispose of you, nena?” he asked, his voice cool and dark.

He was right. She’d asked a stupid question. Of course, he wasn’t going to kill her. He’d waited months to get his hands on her. He’d killed and tortured for her. He’d provided for her, flown a doctor in for her and taken her to one of the best clinics in the world. But Casey had never been one to think logically when she was threatened. She still couldn’t work out what he meant to do to her, though her lack of clothing was a concerning development.

“A-are you going to hurt me?” she asked, her voice cracking.

She flinched and wiggled her ass, expecting another hit to that already tender flesh, but none came. He chuckled darkly, “Most assuredly, mi amor. If this doesn’t wake you the fuck up, then nothing will.”

“What?” she asked sharply. “What’ll wake me up?”

Her head snapped to the side and up as he pulled her hair back and kissed her hard while running his hand roughly down the arch of her back. He sank his fingers into the flesh of her ass cheek and squeezed until it hurt. She whimpered into his mouth. He was being careful not to wrench her neck, but she was desperately frightened. She knew he intended to have sex with her, but she wasn’t wet at all. It was going to hurt if he tried to fuck her while she was on her knees and chained to a bench in his torture dungeon.

He must have realized that she was too scared to be turned on because he began alternating harsh touches with gentle sweeps of his fingers across her body, as though petting and coaxing her flesh with pleasure before punishing through with pain. The combination started to work as it distracted her terrified brain from worrying about his intentions and focused it on the magic of his flesh against hers. The heat of each strike as he hit her, the burn as it spread across her nerve endings and then the soothing, caressing stroke that would follow.

Reyes shifted to the side of her, the rough fabric of his pants sliding between her legs as he forced his thigh across her labia. She cried out and started to arch into him before she caught herself. He’d spent weeks conditioning her to this kind of delicious torture. Now, he’d chained her down and was giving her a taste of how much darker he could take things if she didn’t give him what he wanted, bent to his will, became his queen on demand.

“Reyes!” she cried out when he reached down, wrapped his hand around her leg above the knee and jerked her legs wide apart. Her knee scraped painfully across the concrete floor.

She wasn’t expecting a hit directly to her tender pussy and screamed in shock when he slapped her there, his fingers smacking against the tender lips of her labia. She jerked hard against the bench, a jolt of pleasure and pain shooting right through her pelvis and up into her torso. Heat flooded her veins and moisture gathered in her core. Before her brain had a chance to process what he’d done to her he slapped her again and again, until the sound of the strikes was undeniably the sound of a hand hitting wet flesh.

“Like that, do you, nena?” he growled, pride throbbing in his deep voice.

He began alternating between slapping her ass in hard strikes and her pussy as she squirmed against the bench, begging him. She was no longer begging him to let her go. Now she was begging for another kind of release. She’d widened her legs even more, uncaring of the scrape against her knees. She could feel the gathering wetness of her pussy beginning to drip down her thighs.

“Oh god, Reyes,” she yelled, her head still twisted so she couldn’t see him. “Please just fuck me now!”

She was so ready to explode into orgasm from the stimulation of his strikes that she was now rocking her hips back into each blow and twisting her shoulders as much as she could to give her even more thrust. She just needed him to let the tip of his finger linger a little longer against her hard, throbbing clit and she would go right over the edge, but it was like he knew! He snatched his hand back the second he sensed he was about to rock her orgasm until she was ready to start screaming in frustration.

“You aren’t ready to be fucked yet, cariña,” he growled from behind her.

“What the fuck do you mean?” she yelled incredulously. “I couldn’t get any wetter if you dumped me in a lake. Fuck me now or die you monster!” she demanded, her voice starting to waver from too much screaming. “I’ll murder you if this is your plan. To make me all horny and then leave me.”

He chuckled. “Not to worry, nena, it’s not my plan to leave you high and… wet,” he chuckled, then he ran his fingers through her sopping pussy and slid two of them deep into vaginal passage, stretching her until she was moaning and squirming. Then he ran them up to the tiny, puckered hole of her ass and spread the wetness there. He said, “It’s not my intention to fuck this pussy at all.”

She froze as he used her natural lubrication to work his fingertip into her ass and begin to stretch her. It took a minute for her brain to catch up to his words and actions. During that time, he managed to work his finger into her incredibly tight ass, wiggling it in until he bottomed out. She cried out and arched her back down toward the bench, wrenching her arms hard against the cuffs.

“Shh, nena,” he urged, leaning across her, his finger still buried in her ass. He ran his other hand up her side soothingly as he whispered in her ear, “You need to calm down or this is going to hurt.”

“Fuck you, culero! This is going to hurt a motherfucking lot no matter what you do,” she screeched at him, tears gathering in her eyes. “First time anal sucks!”

He froze and then she felt vibrations against her back as he started to chuckle. “How would you know it, ah, sucks if it’s your first time, eh, nena?” he asked in a perfectly reasonable voice that made her want to stab his eyes out. How dare he laugh at her while she was terrified he was going to tear her ass wide open with his monster dick. Tears began trickling from her eyes across her nose and down her cheek to pool on the metal beneath her face.

“Culero,” she muttered.

He stopped chuckling. He shoved a second finger into her ass drawing a scream of pain from her and reached to grip her face with his free hand, gripping her cheeks hard. “You call me an asshole again, Casey, and I will make sure it hurts as much as you expect it to, understand? Swallow the disrespect.”

She nodded as much as she could. He released her face and she put her head down, face down on the bench, pressing her forehead against the metal. She was done trying to see him, trying to see what he was doing to her. He got what he wanted. He got her to respond to a monster, the Bolivian mafia boss. Now the boss was going to show her exactly who owned her, every inch of her. And she would never cross him again.

She tensed as he stood behind her. Was he going to fuck her standing up? She frowned when she heard him walk away from her, then shuffling as though a drawer was being opened and closed. Strange, she hadn’t seen any shelves or anything. Not that she’d looked at the room very closely.

She lay chained down, waiting with tense expectation as he approached her again. Something small and plastic hit the floor and bounced next to her causing her to jump. She frowned and whimpered. What the fuck was he doing? Then she gasped and jumped again, straining against the chains, rattling them against the wall when she felt something cool and gel-like hit her ass crack and slide into her heated anus.

“Motherfucker!” she yelled.

He slapped her ass again, much harder than he had hit her yet. “Silencio!” he snarled. “You are lucky I am in the mood to make this easier for you, woman. One more word and I will beat you into submission before fucking this ass with the brutality it deserves. Remember who I am.” The last sentence was gritted with such intensity that she slammed her lips shut on a whimper and tilted her forehead, pressing it hard into the cold metal.

He slapped her ass again then slapped her pussy before moving his fingers to her ass and sliding them deep into the forbidden hole. Her moan turned into a scream as the pressure increased. She continued to squirm, moan and cry out hoarsely, her voice cracking as her raw throat gave out while he pumped his fingers in and out of her, preparing her ass to take his cock. He massaged and stretched her, forcing her body to take the width of first two fingers and then three until the painful burn of invasion began to give way to a gradual tingle of pleasure. Unwillingly she started to move her hips in a way that increased that pleasure until she was asking for more.

Finally, after several minutes of preparation and more lubrication he removed his fingers. Casey cried out hoarsely in disappointment and tried seeking his leg out with hers. Then she heard the jingle of his belt and the tell-tale thunk of his pants hitting the floor. She froze, knowing what was coming and huddled her hips as much as she could against the bench. Her breathing grew ragged as he gripped her hips and dragged them back toward him stretching her arms until they wouldn’t go back anymore. The chains rattled.

“I fucking love that sound, nena. Especially when it’s you under my hands, in my dungeon,” he growled from behind her.

His fingers dug into her hips, flexing them deep into the flesh of her hips for a moment before he moved one of them over to the small over back and then across her ass and into the dip. She whimpered as he ran the velvety tip of his penis through the lubrication and up the crack of her ass. It felt so good she couldn’t help but twitch her hips back into him and moan her pleasure, even knowing the pain that was about to come. Then she felt him place the tip against her anus and start pushing.

She breathed hard and arched her back trying to push back against the overwhelming fullness. Reyes pressed his hand into the middle of her back and pushed her down, pinning her ruthlessly to the bench until she had no room to move at all, then began sliding his thick cock into her anal passage. She tried to push back against his ruthless entry but, if anything, she made it easier for him to slide further in. She screamed and thrashed, throwing her head back until he finally stopped, having thrust his entire length into the depths of her heated passage.

“Fuck, mia nena,” he gritted savagely from behind her. “So fucking tight, so good.”

She gritted her own teeth against the pain, glad that he wasn’t moving, positive he would tear her apart if he so much as twitched inside her. She flinched when he shifted slightly to reach underneath her, but he only reached for her clit, running his fingers over the slippery nub, drawing sparks of pleasure to override the pain. She cried out and rocked into it, sliding herself up and down his cock a tiny bit and sending new sensations throughout the tiny nerve endings in her ass. She gasped and began rocking harder, seeking more of the pleasure that was suddenly building.

“Si Casey, si nena, just like that!” he snarled from behind her, gripped her hip hard and pushed further into her, easing his length in and out of her in gentle strokes while massaging her clit with his other hand until she was writhing under him, begging for release.

Casey spared a few precious seconds to realize the care he was taking to make sure her first-time anal didn’t suck. That she was indeed building toward release and not being torn in two from a cock that could do real damage to her pussy let alone her virgin ass. She could tell from the tension in his body that he was having trouble holding himself back from just slamming into her; gripping her hips in both hands and pounding her hard.

“Come for me, cariña,” he growled. “You need to come for me now.”

She could feel the flaring of his dick as it grew impossibly harder and longer, his strokes growing rougher. She cried out as he slammed himself into her tender ass, pain and pleasure flaring and radiating throughout her body. He pinched and flicked her clit until she was lost in a messy world of swirling spinning dizziness.

“Come!” he shouted.

His thrusts grew progressively rougher and more painful. Tears gathered in her eyes. He rubbed her clit harder, forcing her higher and higher. She threw her head back with a savage scream of her own. She’d intended to scream at him to stop. Stop the torture, stop forcing her to feel these vastly different things. But it hurt so fucking good that she never wanted it to stop. Instead she did as he demanded and came for him in an explosion of white sparks that dimmed her vision for a few seconds.

She slammed her eyes shut so she wouldn’t pass out, wrapped her fingers around the chains as best she could and held on for dear life as he continued fucking her ass for several more strokes before finishing. She felt the hot rush of semen as he filled her anal passage. It felt different than when he filled her pussy. He pulled out and finished across her ass cheek and thigh, marking her.

The possessive culero, she thought weakly, slumping against the chains and resting her cheek against the cold metal of the bench.

Reyes reached over her head, a bead of sweat dripping from his wide chest and landing on her shoulder blade, and uncuffed first one wrist and then the other. Casey moaned at the painful rush of blood through her veins and the pull of tender flesh. She curled her wrists underneath her torso against her breasts and huddled against the bench hoping like hell he was done with the torture. She ached everywhere.

He sat her on his lap and curled her up, tucking her head beneath his chin, then settled with his back against the bench. Neither of them were comfortable. Reyes was sitting with a metal bench digging into his back, though Casey was having trouble truly caring about his comfort given what he’d just done to her. And she was leaning against his sticky, sweaty bare chest and sitting on his still semi-hard dick with the zip of his pants digging into her tender ass. She glanced down at her bare thigh where her leg was curled up. There was a streak of something sticky. She realized it must be semen mixed with blood. If she didn’t badly need the comfort of his arms at the moment she would probably haul off and punch him.

After sitting in silence for several moments while their racing hearts calmed and she wondered if she would ever sit again, he finally spoke.

“Come back to me, nena,” he whispered against the top of her head, kissing her hair.

Tears filled her eyes and she took several shuddering breaths before answering. “It hurts too much, Reyes. The numbness feels so much better. I can cope with that. When there aren’t any feelings. I… I just don’t think I can survive the memories when they keep rushing at me every time I close my eyes. And your love… it makes me feel too much, hurts too damn much. I should’ve died with them.” Her voice broke on the last word and she ended on a sob.

His arms tightened around her and squeezed until she almost couldn’t breathe, but it was a good kind of hurt. It reminded her that she was still alive and that he wasn’t going to let her slip away to die in a pool of her own blood with a bullet in her brain. The tears came faster and harder. He let her cry until there were no more tears.

He took a fistful of her hair and forced her head back until it rested on his bicep. He looked into her swollen, tear-stained eyes and said, “You are alive, mi amor, mi reina, don’t waste this gift. Time to wake up, understand?”

She took a deep breath in and then let it shudder out from her. “Okay, Reyes,” she whispered, tilting her head to the side and pressing a kiss against his stubbled jaw. “Time to wake up.”

The edge of his lips curved a little, softening his profile a little. Then he said, “Good, nena, because I have some information on the motherfuckers that took your family. We fly to Venezuela tomorrow.”

30

The man looked as though he’d seen a ghost, yet Casey was positive she’d never seen him before. He stared and stared at her as though unable to drag his eyes away from her. She knew she was a good-looking woman. She knew her beauty lured men to her, powerful men like Ignacio and Reyes. But, somehow, she didn’t think it was her uncanny resemblance to Marilyn Monroe that was making Sotza, the Venezuelan boss, look at her like she had two heads.

She was about to ask if they had met before when he abruptly turned to Reyes and snapped in a clipped British accent, “Who is this? I refuse to negotiate business in front of a newcomer. Send your little girlfriend away if you expect to talk.”

Casey felt the thick, palpable tension in the air, winding like a serpent, getting ready to strike for daring to insult the Bolivian’s woman. Casey side-eyed Reyes. Yup. Though he looked at ease, standing in his superbly cut dark suit, his arms crossed over his broad chest, waves of fury were rolling off of him. Alejandro and the rest of their men were looking just as menacing.

Casey glanced back at Sotza with a raised eyebrow. From the look on his face, she could tell he was regretting his words. The imp in her really wanted him to eat them, but she knew she needed to play nice to get to the goods. She smiled pleasantly and was about to speak when Reyes interrupted with a growl, “She is my wife, not my little girlfriend. You will be respectful and civil when speaking to her.” Apparently, despite his assurances that this meeting was in her hands, he couldn’t help but defend her honour. Sweet.

She didn’t bother correcting Reyes’ continued insistence on calling her his wife when she was not. Instead she looked intently at Sotza and then nodded toward a beautifully tiled walkway. “Walk with me, señor,” she said pleasantly. “Tell me why you looked at me the way you did.”

Sotza appeared somewhat relieved that she was calling her guard dog to heel and taking the reins. Clearly, he didn’t want a bloodbath on his home front. Casey indicated that they should walk together side by side, turning their backs on the veritable army and moving with the Venezuelan arms dealer toward the path. He hesitated only a moment and then allowed her to lead him, perhaps a mixture of curiosity and fear of retaliation from Reyes guiding his decision.

“Was it because I look so very much like my mother?” she murmured when they were out of ear shot of anyone else.

Tensions visibly vibrated through him for a moment and then he relaxed. They strolled leisurely down the path. Reyes remained close by, monitoring Casey’s body language, but ultimately trusting her with this exchange. They’d talked in depth about what to expect and how the interaction should go down. He had convinced her that since it was her family and her ultimate happiness at stake that she should be the one to direct the discussion with Sotza while her king protected her back. She could tell though that Reyes was nervous on her behalf. He didn’t know what to expect. She was always his wild card.

Finally, after they’d walked the path for several minutes, leaving armed bodyguards behind and entering into a peaceful garden along the Eastern wall of Sotza’s property, he began to speak, gifting her with the truth. “Your mother was a stunningly beautiful woman, with white gold hair and bright green eyes. She could bring a man to his knees with a single look. Her grace and beauty were renowned in our circles. Your father was the envy of many… myself included.”

Casey felt a rush of gratitude. These were the first kind words she’d heard about her parents in a decade and they felt oddly comforting. They wrapped themselves around her heart and helped to replace the awful images of execution that had been playing like a clip show on repeat through her brain since her memory had returned.

“Thank you,” she said huskily.

Sotza nodded and waved her toward a stone bench, urging her to sit next to him. She glanced toward Reyes, whose expression was unreadable behind dark sunglasses. He stood to the side, arms crossed in front of him, not even bothering to pretend that he wasn’t staring intently her way. Casey gave him a half smile and sat with Sotza, turning to give her attention to the half Venezuelan, half British man. He was really very handsome in a Brioni suit, tailored to perfection along his sculpted frame. Tall and slender, regal almost, he was probably about twenty years older than her.

His skin was perfectly tanned, his dark hair, grey at the temples, was brushed back and at the sides. He was the picture of cool, sophistication with an exotic twist. He was a difficult man to get any kind of read on, except when he gazed at Casey for too long, then she saw small sparks of emotion. As though he were struggling with his own long-buried memories. So, she looked at him, really looked at him and tried to see the truth.

She tilted her head to the side, her white blond hair sliding over her shoulder and swinging toward him. She saw his gaze shift along her body, saw the flash of intense longing before he shut it down.

“You knew my mother better than you’re saying,” she said bluntly. He turned his head toward her, the look in his eyes at first cool and chastising. “Please tell me,” she urged him. “Everyone I used to love has fallen. Murdered in our home by execution, one at a time. I watched as my mother was forced to her knees. Watched as she begged for the lives of her children, right before they put a bullet in her head.”

He flinched, a ripple running through his frame. Terrible fury, similar to what she’d seen in Reyes eyes flashed through Sotza before he blanked his expression once more. The dead eyes. Yes, this she knew well and could deal with. It was that momentary flash though, that she intended to take advantage of. She knew she had him. She reached out and placed her hand over his. He allowed the familiarity.

“Please help me Señor Sotza,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “My blood was stolen from me, I was harmed beyond repair and then I was taken as some kind of prize by the man that shot me in the head. Their deaths rocked our world, yet no one lifted a finger for me.”

His hand jerked underneath hers, but she refused to let him go. She studied him as he processed her words and, for a split second, seemed to crumple. As if in slow motion, his other hand moved over to cover hers. She saw Reyes jerk out of the corner of her eye, his arms loosening to fist at his sides. He did not enjoy the hold Sotza had on her; that the Venezuelan could possibly hurt her before Reyes could physically get to her. Though she didn’t look toward her protective lover, she shook her head slightly to keep him at bay.

Sotza looked at her then, allowing her to see the pain and fury in his dark eyes, though his face was carefully blank. He spoke in low, measured tones, “Yes, I knew her well. She was supposed to have been mine. I saw her and loved her first. I courted her slowly, gently… we were both young. Our fathers worked together. But then she met your father, a young capo in the familia organization.”

“My family?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Your father… he was exciting for her, fun and he made her laugh. He took her dancing and swimming. Things I couldn’t do for her while I was here, helping my family run our own organization. And my own humour is… sadly lacking.”

She smiled at him sympathetically. “I understand, this business is murder on a sense of humour, señor.”

He laughed sharply. “I see you are also like your father. I didn’t stand a chance against a man like that. I must admit, I had thought about taking out the competition.” He glanced toward Reyes. “But then I met him and saw why she loved him. He complemented her in every way that I couldn’t. While I was darkness to her light, he was light to her light. They were an extraordinary couple, full of energy and bold joie de vivre, if you will pardon the expression. I couldn’t bring myself to take away something that she loved with such passion… and then she fell pregnant with you and I was forced to let her go.”

Her throat felt suddenly dry and painful with the need to cry. She pressed the heel of her free hand against her eye for a moment. Then she blinked back the tears and swallowed past the lump. “M-my memories of them are fuzzy. It’s like when I was shot in the head and then went into a coma after, my childhood memories were scooped out. But they are slowly returning. It… helps to hear you speak of them fondly. Or almost fondly in my dad’s case.”

He chuckled. “I grew to enjoy his company. It gutted me when your family was taken.”

“Then why did you allow Ignacio to take me? To keep the only surviving member of my mother’s family?” she asked, turning to him, anguish bright in her eyes.

He took both of her hands in his and spoke earnestly. “Child, I… or rather I should say, we, all of us in the underworld circles thought you were dead. I admit there were rumours of a beautiful woman with white blond hair decorating the arm of Hernandez in Miami, but none of us thought it could be you. Not after what had happened. There is a grave with your name on it right alongside theirs. I personally attended your funeral.”

Her mouth fell open in shock. She hadn’t known that. Ignacio had never allowed her to visit the graves, assuring her it would be too traumatizing, bring back memories of the accident. Instead, he hadn’t wanted her in that graveyard because she would have seen her own grave, started to question him about the accident and unravel the truth.

Sotza shook his head and continued, “Of course, this was a weak excuse. I should have looked further into the rumours. It was too convenient that Hernandez had married a woman that looked so much like you, had the same name and was the correct age. I should have flown back to Miami myself and looked you in the eye. I should have done it for Sandra. But I was too damn grief-stricken. I didn’t want to believe it could be true.”

She nodded her head, still stunned by everything he was revealing to her.

“I’m sorry, Casey,” he told her quietly. “So very sorry.”

She lifted her head and pierced him with eyes shimmering with determination and emotion. “Then help me Señor Sotza,” she said grimly. “I want revenge on the people that did this to my family; the ones that planned this and the ones that pulled the trigger. I won’t rest until they’re all dead. Give me this and I will forgive you, both for myself and my mother.”

He stared back at her, unable to smother the emotion in his dark eyes. She saw the sadness and his own need for vengeance reflecting back at her. A cool smile played around his thin lips as he masked every trace of feeling. “Of course I will help, child. As it happens I have been doing some digging over the years, attempting to find the source of the hit. There were many rumours floating around at the time, but as more time passed they died away. Still, one in particular persisted. This one I looked into and found some truth.”

Casey’s heart started pounding in anticipation. She had to remember to school her features. “And?” she asked.

“Though I wish to lay all of my cards at your very lovely feet, my dear, I am still a businessman. I find myself reluctant to give you this information and watch a cherished link to my past walk out of my life, possibly never to return,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

Casey laughed, knowing exactly where he was leading her. “I see,” she replied and tapped a fingernail against her lip. “And how exactly would you propose to remedy this dilemma?”

“A trade negotiation with new routes into the United States,” he said without pause. “With you as my main point of contact and twice-yearly meetings.”

Casey nodded her head and smiled. “I think this can be arranged,” she told him and then removed her hand from his, deciding Reyes was probably reaching his limit of her touching another man, even if it was in pursuit of information. “Come let’s walk and discuss details, you can show me the rest of this magnificent garden.”

Sotza stood, nodded toward Reyes and led her down another path. He turned to her and said enigmatically, “I have another gift for you, my dear, one that I will give for free.” His face softened as he spoke. “I found this particular treasure when I was digging for information on your family.”

31

Casey was starting to panic. This was not good.

“Get the men off my fucking plane,” Reyes snapped at Alejandro, his hand tight on hers as he dragged Casey across the tarmac toward the private jet. She nearly had to run to keep up with his rapid strides despite her long legs. She was cursing her choice of spiked high heels. Had she known she would be marathon walking she’d have chosen flats.

“What about the pilot?” Alejandro asked, confused.

Reyes didn’t bother to respond, just walked faster until Casey was actually running to keep up.

“Right,” Alejandro said. He shot Casey a pitying look and jogged toward the plane to empty it before Reyes and Casey arrived.

Reyes hadn’t said a single word almost the entire time they were at Sotza’s. He’d watched her interactions intently and listened as she’d negotiated each minute detail with the tough Venezuelan businessman, but he’d never once stepped in. Had she overstepped? Promised too much in her quest for vengeance? Had she given away too many of Reyes’ resources? They’d discussed what she should and shouldn’t say, but Casey had definitely branched out on her own, instinctively knowing when to push Sotza and when to back off. He was not a man to take bullshit lightly, despite the soft spot he clearly held for Sandra’s daughter. Casey had felt as though she’d needed to pull out all the stops when maneuvering the older man into a position that was advantageous to her and the Bolivians. But one look at Reyes’ face now and she was positive she’d done something wrong.

His men left the plane quickly, not looking at her as they passed, though she could feel their tension.

“Vete,” he barked, pointing toward a distant hangar.

Casey wanted to beg him to let her go with them. What had she done to deserve his fury? He could have stepped in at any time and taken over if he thought she was doing it wrong. Was he going to punish her for fucking up her very first negotiation? Remembering her time in the dungeon back home she shivered. He pulled her behind him as he marched up the stairs and onto the plane.

Reyes dropped her arm and turned to her, his eyes glowing with an intense dark fire that seemed to reach out and lick every part of her. She backed up a couple of quick steps and held her hand out to him.

“Please, Reyes,” she begged, breathlessly. “I don’t know what I’ve done…”

He reached out, snatched her wrist with a groan and dragged her into his body. She shrieked in surprise and grabbed for his biceps, clinging to him with wide, worried eyes. He claimed her lips in a fierce kiss. It was hard and somewhat brutal, as though he couldn’t get enough of her fast enough. He held her tightly against his body, his embrace one of passion, not punishment as she had been expecting. When he finally let her breathe, she gaped at him.

Finally, he spoke, laying her fears that he was angry to rest. “Where the fuck did you learn to negotiate like that, woman?” he demanded, punctuating his words with hard, stinging kisses. “Was so fucking caliente, I couldn’t wait to get you back here so I could fuck you properly. It was everything I could do not to strip you in the car and take you in the back seat.”

“Oh!” Casey gasped. So that was what had been wrong with him. If she weren’t so damn happy he wasn’t angry with her she would berate him for being such an intense jerk and scaring her.

“Would’ve had to take out my own guys for witnessing you having an orgasm,” he grunted and then backed them up until he was sitting on one of the benches. He pulled her down on top of him until she was straddling him with her skirt pushed up her thighs.

He tore at her clothes, uncaring that the seams of the delicate fabric were giving way beneath his hard, demanding fingers. Within seconds her demure blouse lay in shreds on the floor. She clung to his shoulders attempting to return his kisses, her own passion rising equally with his. She flung her head back, giving him access to her throat.

“I know lot’s about negotiating,” she panted. “I paid attention when I was a kid. I was the oldest child in my family and my daddy let me listen in on his meetings sometimes. He didn’t care that I was a girl… I guess he knew I’d be a mafia wife one day and wanted me to be as prepared as I could be. As for Ignacio… well he and his guys thought I was just some stupid, pretty girl so they weren’t shy about talking in front of me. Oh, fuck!” she moaned when he bit down on the flesh of her shoulder, marking her. Her pussy flooded with heat for him, impatient for the man that had taken over her life and brought her more pleasure than she could ever imagine. “I guess they never imagined what this cracked brain was capable of retaining,” she mumbled, clinging to his shoulder with one hand and his hair with the other.

Reyes growled angrily, gripped her by the back of the head and swung her forward until she was face to face, nose to nose with him. Recognizing the thunder in his eyes she tried to shrink back, but he forced her to continue straddling him. “You will never disparage yourself again, Casey. Understand?”

She nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

“Say it!” he snapped.

“Never again,” she whispered leaning her forehead against his. God, she was falling hard for this man.

“Mi Reina is not fucking cracked,” he growled, “Mi reina es perfecta.”

A tear slid down her cheek and she cupped his face in her hands and said with all the conviction in her heart, “Mi rey es perfecto.”

He slid his hand down her front, between her bare breasts and over her bunched skirt into her panties. She squirmed when he slid his fingers along her aching clit and then down further into her dripping pussy. Her legs tried to automatically close in reaction to the rough touch of his thick fingers against her soft pussy, but he forced her wider by spreading his knees and tipping her backwards on his arm.

Her cries filled the airplane as he pressed two thick fingers inside her and hooked them against the front wall of her vagina, massaging her. It was too much! Too many sensations flooding her at once. She squirmed on top of him, trying to get closer to the intense feeling building inside her while also trying to twist and crawl away from him. He held her tight, his arm wrapped securely around her waist, anchoring her against him.

Casey would have marvelled at the incredible strength it must have taken for him to hold her up except she was too preoccupied with what was happening to her body. She brought her legs up on either side of him, her knees quaking as building pleasure streaked through her. He flicked his thumb over her clit and sent her spinning over the pinnacle of some kind of super orgasm.

She shrieked and reached out blindly to clutch him, gripping his neck and dragging herself foreword, rocking her pussy up against him and grinding into whatever friction she could find to prolong the blissful aftershocks. She vaguely heard him groan and felt him pull his fingers from her sopping wet passage. She moaned in protest, tilting her hips against his stomach and trying to ride him. She so wasn’t done coming yet.

He reached in between them, tore at his belt and unzipped his pants. He hastily shifted them until he was able to pull his hard, thick cock up between them. Casey panted, lifted herself slightly and allowed him to guide her down. She moaned, her head falling back as he began to fill her inch by slow inch. She wiggled a little when it became too much, the sensations overwhelmingly full.

“You can do it, nena,” he groaned, nipping and licking at her exposed throat and breasts. “You can take me.”

He took her hips in his broad hands and pulled her all the way down until he was impaled deep inside. She moaned and squirmed, tilting her hips forward and back as much as he would allow, rubbing her clit against him until she was seconds away from coming again. He took her nipple between his teeth and teased, increasing the pressure until she was ready to explode.

“Come for me again,” he grunted against her, his voice a guttural groan.

Casey dropped her hand from his neck, running it down the chiselled muscles of his chest to his stomach and then curling her fingers toward her own clit. He leaned back and dropped his head so he could watch as she worked her fingers in between them, using the pads of her fingertips to draw herself closer and closer while her knuckles brushed softly against him, driving him crazy.

“Harder, Casey,” he demanded. “Touch harder. Come now.”

As though her fingers were somehow connected to him, she did exactly as he commanded, pressing harder against her own slippery flesh while he fucked up into her, filling her channel with his hot, hard flesh until she was once more flying into the embrace of another magical orgasm.

“Yes!” she screamed happily, flinging her arms back so suddenly he had to grip her tighter so she wouldn’t fall off his lap. She rocked on top of him, riding him harder, drawing out her orgasm as her pussy spasmed around him.

“Fuck!” he snarled, gripping her waist tight and slamming her down on his cock repeatedly until she felt him grow inside her. She squirmed at the sudden discomfort and gripped his shoulders, hanging on as he forced her to ride him savagely until he was spurting his semen up into her.

He slammed her down once more on his cock and stopped moving, holding her tight on his lap. Casey collapsed against him, resting her head against his shoulder. She breathed heavily, eyes closed, totally blissed out.

After a few minutes, she managed to pull herself together enough to push back from his shoulder and look at him properly. She pressed her forehead against his and sifted her fingers through his thick hair. “Let’s go to Mexico,” she whispered.

His dark eyes heated with fire and she felt his cock stir inside her again. “Si, nena. We will go to Mexico next.”

32

Reyes picked up her hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed the fingertips, all while looking at his host, Benito Alvarez, Mexican cartel boss. Benito sat at the head of a massive table, surrounded by his men, while Reyes sat a few seats down the left side. He listened with barely concealed patience to Benito’s words of long-winded congratulations toward his Bolivian counterpart, mixed with liberal amounts of self-praise. Reyes forced himself to maintain his hold on the cool, pale blonde’s hand, though he didn’t so much as glance at her as she played her part to perfection. He felt her shift slightly in her seat as she reached for her wine goblet and took a small swallow of the rich, red wine, the sleeve of her burgundy dress falling away from her arm. He should have warned her not to wear that colour.

“I must admit, Señor Reyes, I had expected your… companion to be somewhat different,” Benito said with a disappointed sigh.

Reyes felt her stiffen next to him, but, as discussed, she kept her lips closed and allowed the men’s discussion to flow around her without comment or complaint. He knew it wasn’t easy. They had arrived at the Alvarez compound three days earlier for their negotiations and her presence had been the cause for several comments. Benito and his men baited her with several comments about her American origins and her place in Reyes’ bed. They had agreed to allow any insults to pass freely since they were bent on keeping the negotiations peaceful.

Reyes stroked a finger over the back of her hand. He knew how much she despised listening to Benito spew his garbage around a table filled with his own men, men loyal to the Alvarez cartel. Reyes felt her relax under his gentle guidance. She picked her wine up and continued sipping while picking at the cheese plate in front of them. He had to give Benito props, though his manners were disgusting, he set a decent table. They were surrounded by treasures of immense wealth as well, gifts from the Mexican cartel to the Bolivians in appreciation for bringing forth new business, new trade routes and a new partnership. Among the gifts were weapons, jewels and money. But the most breathtaking and, perhaps, telling of Benito’s penchant for drama was a human skull, now sitting in the middle of the table directly across from Reyes, adorned in coins and jewels. Its eyes glowed with a particularly sinister beauty, having been set with two exquisitely cut emeralds.

“And what exactly do you mean by that, amigo?” Reyes drawled lazily, declining his own wine in favour of water.

“I was told she was unusually stunning,” Benito said bluntly, his sharp eyes on the woman at Reyes’ side.

Reyes placed her delicate hand on her own leg and stretched his arm around the back of her chair, wrapping his fingers around the back of her neck through the blond strands of her hair. It was a move meant to show possessiveness and shut down this line of discussion. He felt the tension thrumming through her body as he touched her, as the air in the room thickened while Benito played with his guests. After three solid days of Benito’s abrasive personality, Reyes was more than ready to take his woman and quit the Alvarez cartel. Permanently.

“And is she not stunning?” he asked through gritted teeth, knowing he should just accept the insult and move on, but feeling sufficiently slighted on her behalf to engage with the pig-like Mexican. Tension filled the room, making the men around the table shift uncomfortably and look to Benito for his reaction.

“Of course, my friend!” Benito was quick to reassure Reyes. “She is a beautiful woman, there is no denying this.” Benito’s eyes flowed liberally over her petite frame, pausing on her full chest before paying particular attention to her face. Then his voice became more serious. “But not unusual. Now, I have heard rumours of your woman…”

“What rumours?” Reyes asked sharply.

Benito flicked a look at the Bolivian boss that suggested a conspiracy, but Reyes sensed a smugness in his attitude. As though he knew a secret that only he could share. “I had heard that you might have picked your woman up from the late Ignacio Hernandez, recently of Miami.” When Reyes said nothing, merely remained in his seat, posture relaxed, Benito continued. “But that would be impossible since I recently gave the order for Hernandez to dispose of his little bitch. Especially if he thought there were any threats to Miami.”

Though he wanted nothing more to rip the man’s still beating heart out of his chest and shove it down his throat, Reyes remained seated and merely raised an eyebrow as though he were listening to an interesting story.

Clearly annoyed that he was getting no reaction Benito’s words became more clipped. “Ignacio’s second, Diego, has reported her death to me… but the rumours…”

“And why exactly would rumours bother you?” Reyes asked negligently. “Indeed, why order her death at all? A woman of her standing? She was nothing to you, just the wife of a pig.”

Benito chuckled and nodded his head. This was the kind of language he understood. His lack of respect for women was renowned. He had no wives himself and simply fathered children illegitimately, building his cartel with as much of his own blood as he could. “I couldn’t have anyone discover the truth of his pet.”

Reyes picked his glass up on the pretext of having a drink, but used it to hide the shaking of his hand as rage throbbed through his veins, threatening to erupt and fuck all of their fine plans. As he lowered the glass, her hand wrapped around his and steadied him. Their eyes met and her steady green gaze told him to hold it together, grounding him in that moment. He’d gotten to know facets of this woman over the past three days. She was kind, steady and determined. She was willing to sacrifice much for her family. She helped calm the rage and reminded him of his duty.

Reyes turned to their host once more and asked in a careless voice, “I am curious. Do please tell me why you are so interested in Hernandez’s pet and why my woman’s resemblance to her or lack thereof should matter so much to you?”

Benito stared in utter consternation as though he’d expected fireworks and gotten a wet fizzle instead. Then he laughed, shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his seat with hands folded over his belly. “Ah, the rumours must have been wrong then. My mistake, amigo,” he announced and took a bite of cheese. “You see, this Casey, she has been a thorn in my side for years. She should have died many years ago when I ordered her parents taken out.”

“Interesting,” Reyes said. “Well I can assure you that this woman is not now, nor was she ever, Casey Hernandez. But out of curiosity, why did you have this family killed… the ah, Hernandez woman’s family?”

“Business,” Benito replied with a shrug. “Her father ran the mafia up in Florida for many years. Ignacio had his small piece but wasn’t satisfied. He came to me with a plan to take the boss out and take his business, provide me with cheaper trade routes, easier, less dangerous ways into the US. All I needed to do in return was provide some firepower for the hit. He was a little squeamish about taking out the whole family, apparently had a thing for the girl. Was even set to marry her, but that isn’t our way.”

Reyes breathed hard through his nose and forced himself to release the muscles in his shoulders before Benito noticed anything unusual. He curled his lips back in a semi-smile, hoping it didn’t look too much like a snarl. “And why exactly take out a bunch of harmless kids?”

“It is our belief that when you remove the head of the family, you need to extinguish the entire family line so the young don’t grow up and exact bloody revenge for the death of a parent. It might seem callous, but it only makes sense.”

They heard the clicking of her heels against the stone floor before the beautiful blond appeared in the arched doorway. Benito looked around then; it was clear by the surprise in his eyes that he finally noticed that his guards posted in each archway were missing. He scrambled to his feet reaching for the gun at his belt. Several of his men did the same, some clumsy and some lethally fast depending on their level of confusion and skill. It didn’t matter. They were surrounded by men loyal to Casey and Reyes.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Reyes drawled lazily, his own gun pointed directly at Benito’s heart before Benito could even draw. Reyes nodded at one of his men who relieved the Mexican boss of his pistol and stepped away from the table.

Casey continued into the room, her four inch heels striking the stone with a lethal finality in each step before she stopped at the edge of the table opposite Benito. She was dressed to impress in silver heels and a snow-white halter dress that flowed around her hips with each step she took. She wore her white-blond hair in long, loose ringlets; old Hollywood style. On her wrists and throat she wore the diamonds Reyes had gifted her on the plane trip over. Held loosely in her right hand against the fold of her skirt was her silver gun. Her eyes, one green and one amber, were glowing with anticipation.

Benito looked from Casey to the woman who had been sitting next to Reyes, the woman introduced as Reyes’ wife. “I don’t understand,” he said.

Reyes swept his hand toward Casey. “No Benito, you do not. This woman is my wife. I trust she is sufficiently stunning?” Reyes asked with a small smirk, as though he was now the one revealing a secret weapon.

“Casey Hernandez,” Benito said darkly.

She nodded, her eyes on the man responsible for the murder of her family. “You weren’t careful enough, were you Benito? You didn’t clean up after yourself; didn’t make sure I died with the rest of my family. Shame on you for being so sloppy.”

He grunted. “Stupid mistake; allowing Hernandez to keep you when you didn’t fall with the rest.” He collapsed back into his chair, staring at her with some hostility, but mostly awe, as though he were seeing a beautiful ghost conjured from the pits of his deepest memories. “So much like your mother,” he mumbled, then seemed to catch himself and straighten. “Ignacio begged me to allow you to live when you pulled through the initial surgeries. It was a stupid sentimentality, but I was superstitious too, you see? Figured if you survived a bullet to the brain, maybe it was meant to be. Perhaps you were not meant to die with the rest of the Palmieri’s. You were always a truly stunning child with those strange eyes; the way you could look right through a person.”

She blinked slowly. “I don’t remember you,” she murmured almost absently.

She placed her hands on the table, listening to his story with rapt attention. Her gun clinked against the heavily polished wood. She’d had weeks to come to terms with the death of her family and indeed with his words, the replay in her head came slower, less like the mad rush of a movie clip that wouldn’t stop and more like a slow replay of a black and white film where all the players knew their places. A beautiful ache built in her chest as he spoke because she finally knew how the movie began and how it ended. It started as a horror film, but somehow ended in romance. Her eyes drifted to Reyes where he watched her with rapt possession, his attention unwavering. He’d brought her to this moment and he would carry her through.

Her gaze shifted back to the demon in the shadows, the man that had orchestrated her suffering and brought about the downfall of the Miami Palmieri’s. He looked so much smaller in real life than she’d built him up to be in her imagination. He wore a suit, like most of the men at the table. His was light-coloured, she thought, open at the neck and collar with a pocket kerchief. He was likely in his sixties or seventies; his build was slim and he was balding. Now her man, her beautiful Reyes, he could easily carry the mantle of monster with his bold, broad and bloodthirsty presence.

“Go on,” she encouraged, “tell us what happened after you allowed Ignacio to keep me.”

Benito glared at the beautiful blond apparition and then said viciously, “I ordered the death of any in your immediate line. Though Ignacio begged for children, I told him to make sure there were none. That one or both of you be rendered sterile. I didn’t care who as long as there were no children.”

She nodded. “You ordered the death of my baby, didn’t you?”

“Of course, I did,” he said, some of his smugness returning. “I couldn’t have a Palmieri spawn rise up and come after me one day. In fact, a few months ago, I’d decided you were too much of a risk. One of my Miami contacts brought me the news that you were beginning to fight against your chains, refuse your medications and talk back to your bodyguards. I couldn’t have that.”

Casey had begun to suspect the truth of what had happened to baby Jack. His confirmation, though a knife twist to the heart, didn’t cause her to so much as flinch in surprise. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She took her hands off the table and began walking around the seated men, who were watching the proceedings apprehensively, helpless to do anything but sit and witness the drama unfold, Reyes’ surrounding men ensuring compliance. Before she could reach Benito the lovely blond at Reyes side stood gracefully from the table to intercept Casey. No one moved to stop her.

Casey’s face softened and she smiled holding her arms out. “Gina.”

Gina side-stepped the gun held carelessly in Casey’s hand and went easily into her embrace. Though they’d had barely a few days to get to know each other, Sotza had gifted the two women with each other’s existence. Ten years earlier when the mafia world had been rocked by the brutal deaths of the Palmieri family, a single living relative, a teenaged cousin, had been whisked off the continent and into safe-keeping, essentially forgotten since she had no other family and had never been considered a direct threat. Except for Sotza, few even knew of her existence. She had been living an uneventful and lonely life in central America and was overjoyed to reconnect with a cousin she thought dead.

“If you don’t mind, cousin, I’d prefer to leave for this part,” Gina murmured, pulling away from Casey with a grimace. “Much as I’d like to see this little worm squirm, I’m afraid I’ve never really developed the stomach for this sort of thing.”

“Of course, I’ll wait until you’re safely away,” Casey said kindly and, indeed waited for the other woman to make her way out of the dining room before she continued along the table. She stopped next to Reyes and placed her free hand on his shoulder.

Reyes wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in tight against his side, breathing her scent. It had been a long few days without her, trusting Alejandro to keep her safe while they gathered reinforcements among cartels loyal to Reyes, ones that were willing to make a move against Benito. Now it was hell watching her stand tall against the man that had destroyed her family and not take the gun from her and kill every disloyal man in the room. But this was her moment, her time to reign.

She was staring down at the jewel encrusted skull with a sort of fascinated horror, before lifting her gaze to Benito’s. “The eyes, Reyes… what colour are they?”

“Green, nena,” he told her.

“Like my mother’s.”

She lifted the gun and pointed it at Benito’s head. Reyes knew she was a damn good shot. He’d made sure of it before they’d come into Mexico.

“Say her name,” she demanded.

Benito glared and for a moment and it looked as though he would refuse, but finally he mumbled. “Sandra.”

Tears glittered in Casey’s eyes and she sniffled and said, “Sandra Palmieri.” Then she turned the gun on the skull and pulled the trigger sending shards of skull and jewels flying across the table. Her bullet went right through the skull and struck the man sitting on the opposite side of the table right through the heart. He slumped in his chair without making a sound.

33

Casey gaped at the dead man, stunned.

“Holy crap, I didn’t mean to do that!” she squeaked and turned horrified eyes on Reyes. “Was he one of ours?”

Reyes chuckled darkly and gave her hip a reassuring pat. “No, nena, my guys are all standing in position.” His eyes cut to Benito and lingered in disgust. “Real professionals expect an ambush at any moment, especially when hosting an unknown. All these motherfuckers belong to the head of the table. This party belongs to you; shoot at will.”

A slow grin spread across her face and she flung her arms around Reyes. He swung her into his lap and kissed her hard on the mouth, slipping his tongue across her lips, demanding access to the treasure within. She opened eagerly and pressed herself against him, heedless of their audience.

Reyes pulled back slightly, his hand tangled in her hair, gripping her hard. “I missed you, Casey. Was the longest three days of my fucking life. Don’t you ever fucking leave me again, understand?”

She smiled against him and nodded, ignoring the painful tug in her scalp. “Yes, Reyes. Never again.” She was about to kiss him again when a loud bang startled her and she jumped in Reyes’ lap and craned her head around to look at Benito who’d brought this fist angrily down on the table.

“Get on with it, whatever this is,” Benito sneered. “I don’t intend to watch the last Palmieri bitch whore herself at my table. I’d rather go to hell.”

Casey felt Reyes stiffen beneath her and reach for the gun he’d placed on the table within easy reach. She ran her fingers lightly down his arm soothing the rage that surfaced so easily on her behalf. Though she loved his protectiveness, this was her party.

“You’re absolutely right!” she looked back at Reyes. “Let’s not be rude, mi rey. Let’s get this party started.” She gave him her best, most cock-hardening grin and leapt from his lap.

She sauntered around the table, white dress swishing around her long legs, blond hair moving with perfect movie star precision as though she were walking a red carpet. The only thing out of place was the silver gun, which fitted perfectly in the palm of her hand. Reyes had a skull etched into the handle with a rose in place of one of the eyes. Her bloodthirsty Bolivian had true romance in his heart.

Every pair of male eyes in the room watched her with rapt attention as she walked behind Benito. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and bent to speak in his ear while he tensed under her touch.

Before she could speak, Reyes sent her a warning look and growled from across the table, “No touching, nena. We talked about how this would go down.”

She rolled her eyes and straightened with a sigh backing away from the Mexican she’d marked for death, hands in the air. “No fun,” she mumbled.

“Casey,” Reyes warned, standing. “Roll your eyes at me again and your fun is over entirely.”

She smiled big and turned back to her prey, wandering around to where Benito could still see her, but sticking to the rules Reyes had discussed with her and staying out of arm’s reach. Reyes had come to stand behind her, arms crossed, to enforce his rule if need be. “Let’s make this quick, Benito, since I sense my man is getting impatient. He prefers cartel justice, long drawn out torture sessions as opposed to my American style of shoot em’ up and spit em’ out.” She glanced at the guy slumped in his chair opposite the shattered skull. “I jumped the gun on him a little, if you’ll excuse the pun.”

“What the fuck do you want with me, puta,” Benito snarled turning to look at her. “Just get it the fuck over with.”

“Oh!” she laughed, her high airy laugh sounding somewhat off-balanced but still beautiful as it echoed through the room. “It won’t be that easy! You destroyed my world, took everything I love because of your disgusting tradition of killing the entire family. Now I take the things you love, Benito.” She tapped her gun against her cheek and pretended to think about it, then she started listing the names of his family, all the illegitimate children he’d fathered. “Let me see now… there’re the children tucked safely in their beds: Santiago, Matias, Rosario, Renata, Juan Paul, Juanita. That’s a lot of fun I’m going to be having avenging my familia Benito,” she finished with a giggle.

Then her eyes turned glacial and all humour fled her face. “Of course, I’m forgetting a few, aren’t I, Benny? The ones that are old enough to sit at papa’s table and do business.” He stiffened in his chair, horror bleeding into his expression as she leaned in as close as she dared, and whispered, “Benito Jr.”

She straightened her arm and pointed it down the table, two spots to the right of Benito, straight at a man in his early thirties. Her arm shook a little; not in fear or doubt, but with emotion. Her time for vengeance had finally come and she was utterly and completely elated. Reyes stepped up behind her, his warmth filling her with strength. He wrapped a strong arm around her waist and simply held her as she turned her head, pinned the man to his chair, promised him death with a single look and then escorted him into hell with a single shot to the head.

The men on either side of the now dead man flinched but didn’t move otherwise, knowing they would be dead before they leapt from their chairs. Reyes’ men surrounded the entire macabre party and though they kept their distance, ensured the politeness of all guests.

Benito howled in rage and fury as grief erupted from him and he slammed his fists down on the table. He jumped to his feet, toppling his chair over. Spittle flew from his lips as he turned toward Casey and lunged, snarling, “You fucking whore, do you know what you’ve done!”

Reyes dragged her back at the same time as Casey shot Benito in the stomach, sending the older man flying backwards off his feet. He landed on his back and then curled onto his side clutching his stomach with a groan of pain. Casey dropped to her knees beside him, indifferent to the blood that was soaking into the hem of her white skirt. She gripped his arm and spoke almost manically, “You see, Benito? You see, now! It hurts to lose family like this, doesn’t it?” She tapped her gun against the side of her head and flinched a little when the heated metal brushed her temple. “Bullets hurt, Benny!”

“You fucking lunatic cunt, get the fuck away from me!” Benito shoved her back, his bloody hands leaving prints on her pale skin.

Casey jumped to her feet, rocking back on her sky-high heels and glared down at him. “I don’t think you get it at all!” she snapped. “But you will, you have two more sons here. Renaldo and Santiago sit at this table too.”

“No, no! Please!” Benito screamed and tried to grab her, clutching at her skirt.

Casey kicked him away and turned back to the table. A struggle was taking place as Renaldo desperately tried to leave the table while two of Reyes’ men held him down. Santiago sat stoically drinking wine next to his brother. Casey knew he was her age. She’d done her homework. She might have admired his bravery, might have even allowed him to live for his simple audacity, except he’d known of the hits on her family and she’d traced countless others to his name. Children. He was a child killer.

She lifted her gun and shot him in the head. She watched dispassionately as he flew back, his chair toppling over, wine glass smashing as it hit the stone floor. Then she nodded at the men holding Renaldo down and turned away as they completed his execution. She smiled and looked down at Benito’s expression as the bullet thudded into the table as it exited his son’s skull. Benito screamed his anguish at the loss of his sons.

She dropped to her knees and before Reyes could stop her she dragged the suddenly frail looking man into her arms as he lay dying in a pool of his own blood. “Now do you get it, Benito?” she crooned. “It fucking hurts.”

“F-fuck you, p-puta,” he managed to say through a face full of blood, snot and tears.

Then he lunged up at her and reached for her gun just as Reyes gripped her arm and dragged her away from the Mexican arms dealer. “Back the fuck up, Casey!” Reyes snapped sharply. “Don’t touch him again, he’s like a feral dog that needs to be put down.”

Casey stood, blood dripping from her white dress. “I’m not done hurting,” she murmured and turned back to the table. “You have one secret here you thought no outsider could find out. The reason you’ve gone without a wife all these years. No woman to legitimize your children.”

Her eyes glowed with vengeful fire, amber and green, as she stared at the man that had sat to the left of Benito without fail for the past thirty-five years. He stared coldly back, ice clashing with fire. He knew what was coming.

“Please!” Benito screamed, blood and spit flying from his lips, when he realized who she was after. “I’ll do anything, give you anything! Do not take my Mano, I’m begging you! Jewels, money, all of my trade routes, they’re all yours… take them! Please, god, just don’t kill him. Please…” he sobbed, finally a broken man. “I’m so sorry.”

“Tell that to Sandra Palmieri when you see her,” Casey told him and then shot Benito’s lover through the heart.

Casey dropped to her knees on the hard stone floor next to Benito and growled, “Hurts, doesn’t it, puta?”

“Have you no mercy?” he appealed, holding his bloody hand out to her. “You have the face of an angel… but so little mercy.”

She laughed bitterly. “Where was your mercy when you gave me to Ignacio Hernandez? Where was your mercy when you ordered the death of my infant son? You should have gone back to that hospital and finished me off, Benito. That would have been mercy.”

Real fear flashed through his eyes an instant before Casey filled his head and torso with holes, emptying her gun. Reyes dropped to his knees behind her and wrapped his arms around her, ignoring the spray of blood across her dress, face and hair. He kissed the back of her head and whispered, “What about the children? Do we take the entire line as he tried to do to yours?”

She shook her head. “No, Reyes. We don’t kill children.”

He grunted and she knew he had his own opinions, probably ones they wouldn’t agree on, but this was her party and he’d already agreed to let her make the rules.

“Are you done yet, nena, or do you want to kill more of them?” he asked, gripping her hair and tilting her head to the side so he could kiss her neck. She knew it turned him on to watch her shoot. He was a merciless, sadistic son-of-a-bitch. And she loved him.

She tilted her head further to the side, giving him better access, which he immediately took advantage of, heedless of their rapt audience; half of which were pissing themselves in terror and the other half wondering where the insane, ethereal blond came from and where they could get one.

“Maybe one more,” she finally said. “For good measure!”

“Okay, cariña,” Reyes chuckled and helped her to her feet. “Which one do you want?”

She turned her sharp eyes back to the table and immediately pointed at a man she’d recognized the moment she walked into the room. “I know that mean son of a bitch from my Ignacio days,” she smiled coldly as he squirmed in his chair. “And he knows me, he’s a disgusting piece of shit that would try to put his hands on me every time he thought my bodyguard wasn’t looking. I think I’ll play with him a little first…”

Casey trailed her gun along the back of the other men’s chairs, thunking it satisfyingly against the wood, as she approached the one she wanted. He tried pleading with her. “Mrs. Hernandez, C-Casey, so good to see you and looking so fine,” he said in a high-pitched voice. “I never meant nothing by it, you know?”

“But it’s not nice to terrorize women, Stephan,” Casey scolded him, pressing the muzzle of her gun hard against his wrist where it rested on the arm of his chair. She pulled the trigger but nothing happened.

She looked surprised and then giggled and shrugged her shoulders. “Used them all on Benny.”

Alejandro came up behind her, squeezed her shoulder and offered his weapon. She grinned at him and shook her head, her blond hair, now liberally streaked with blood, swaying with the movement. “No thank you,” she whispered loudly, “just make sure he suffers. Not just for me, but for every woman that didn’t have a bodyguard to protect her from this disgusting piece of work.”

She turned to Reyes who was at her back, always at her back. “I think I’m done. Can we go home?”

Reyes grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Anything you want, mi reina.”

34

Reyes turned to Alejandro, his voice full of death. “You know what to do.” Then he escorted Casey from the dining room.

They walked side by side through Benito’s hacienda. Despite the bloody evening Casey had both instigated and endured she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She walked tall next to a man that wanted her height and her power to equal his. She knew she would never match his level of brutality and blood lust, but she was a match for him in every other way. She was his queen and now she’d proved it. She’d avenged her family in spectacular fashion.

The clip of her heels against the stone pavement was the only sound that followed them as they made their way through hall after hall toward the garden where their vehicles waited to take them back to the airplane. The bottom floor of the hacienda was glowing beautifully in the rising moonlight. Casey glanced down at her dress, now covered in blood, completely ruined. It looked beautiful to her.

“I’m all… red,” she whispered, flaring the skirt out away from her thighs as they walked.

Reyes looked at her, his face filled with dark hunger. “You can see it, nena? You can see this colour?”

She smiled over at him and let the fabric flutter between her fingertips. “I can see it if you ask me to, see the things you do. I see them through your eyes, Reyes.” She stopped walking, turned and tugged him against her. He stepped easily into her, wrapping his broad hands around her slim hips.

Casey shoved her fingers into his hair and abruptly brought her lips to his, stopping just short of touching them. “You want me, you take me,” she whispered, her breath rushing over him. His fingers clenched hard against her, biting into her flesh through the thin fabric of her dress. It felt so fucking good with the fresh rush of vengeance coursing through her veins. “Take everything for you.”

With a growl Reyes lifted her slightly and shoved her backwards into the shadows, slamming her against something hard, but he softened the blow with a hand at her back. He wrapped that hand around her neck and forced her head into the perfect angle for the harsh, brutal kiss he took. He ground his hips into hers lifting her body slightly until she was riding his erection. Casey moaned into his mouth as he fucked her with his tongue, stealing her breath until she began to feel faint. She could only clutch his shoulders and take quick breaths when he allowed her to surface.

The moment he released her lips, he attacked her neck with sharp stinging bites. He didn’t even pretend he was kissing her flesh, he marked as much of her as he could, fisting her blood-soaked hair in one hand and wrenching it to the side so he could have better access.

“Love you so fucking much, Casey, mi amor, mi reina. So fucking much more than I ever thought possible,” he snarled against her throat. “I will take everything for myself and I will give you the world in return. I am el rey.”

Casey cried out, her entire body quaking with the fierce emotion ricocheting through both of them. Reyes wrenched her skirt up her body and tore her panties away in one swift move. She screamed at the sting left behind across her thigh and then moaned into his mouth as he shoved his fingers deep into her pussy. She widened her legs, giving him better access. She had no idea how long she’d been wet for, but she was betting it was the moment she walked in on that cozy little dinner scene and set eyes on her man sprawled in his chair like the king he was, owning the dangerous men that sat all around him.

She screamed into his mouth as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, driving her higher and higher, brushing his thumb across her clit with each stroke. Before she could peak he pulled his fingers out and pushed them into her mouth, forcing her to taste herself. He enjoyed doing that, showing her how much he turned her on. She sucked his fingers deep into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around each one, licking the taste of her pussy off his strong fingers while he unzipped his pants and freed his cock.

He shoved her skirt back up around her waist, lifted her right up off the ground and growled, “Legs around my waist, nena.”

Casey clung to his shoulders and did as he ordered, lifting and wrapping her legs around his waist with his help, then he brought her down on his thick cock, filling her inch by inch. She flung her head back, pressing it against the wall behind her and opened her mouth in a silent scream of joy and pain. Fuck, it was the best thing she ever felt in her life and she wanted it to go on forever.

He wanted her hard and he wanted it rough. He wrapped his arm around her waist, snaked one hand up her back, took a fistful of her hair, forced her head back so he could bite down on her neck and began fucking her hard. He slammed her back against the wall repeatedly, forcing his cock in and out of her. It was like being repeatedly impaled with thick, warm steel. Reyes took her to the edge of her endurance and then pushed her over.

Casey screamed, her voice echoing through the veranda beyond. Her body had no choice but to tighten around his as the friction against her clit and the hard fucking drove her higher and higher toward a ferocious orgasm. Her pussy began to ripple, tighten in anticipation, as he slammed harder against her.

She gripped his hair and held him hard, a scream of pure ecstasy ripping through her as she was flung over the edge into oblivion. She went limp against him as he continued his hard thrusts, holding her up against the wall. Reyes shouted her name against the skin of her throat as he came and slammed his hand into the wall next to her head. She smiled happily as she felt the hot rush of him inside her and squeezed him tight against her body.

They both lay against the wall, Reyes leaning against Casey while protecting her back from the hard stone with his hands. He whispered words of love and praise to her while she snuggled against him. She smiled and held in a giggle. His words were mostly approval of her deadly accuracy with her gun and the way she played with her prey before disposing of it.

She sighed and squeezed him tight. She would have to teach him how to speak of nicer, less blood-thirsty things before their child was born. Which reminded her, she should probably tell him soon, give him a chance to get over being pissed that she’d gone into Mexico pregnant before the baby came.

35

Casey chewed her lip nervously and touched a finger to her still flat belly, soothingly caressing her unborn child as she leaned against Ignacio’s old desk and stared unseeing into what used to be her back yard. It still looked the same, perhaps a little less manicured. Ignacio had always been about appearances while Diego was more about security and the bottom line. He would prefer fewer maintenance workers and gardeners on his estate.

She barely listened to the men as they conducted business, which probably surprised Reyes since she’d taken part in almost every facet of his business since Venezuela. And though she’d convinced him to bring her to Miami to reconnect with her former associates and establish herself as his partner, she hadn’t been telling him the entire truth.

There had been some blow back to her taking their unborn child into Mexico and putting both of their lives at risk. He’d raged for days, locking her in their bedroom and alternating between terrible fury and attempting to make her see reason. Oh, she’d seen reason. She’d always seen the truth, just not the truth Reyes wanted her to see. Reyes was beyond terrified of losing the only family he now had. He seemed to understand the importance of allowing her to rise up, become the powerful force that would ignite his heart and entrench his cartel in the underworlds of many regions, but he couldn’t allow her to do it while pregnant. Something about pregnancy and the added vulnerability to her health seemed to push him over the edge. She’d known he would be that way. These mafia guys were funny about familia.

Only after she’d promised to treat herself more like the queen of England than the queen of murder and mayhem did he let her out of the bedroom; though she’d enjoyed some perks in having her favourite man to herself for days on end. They’d outlined the terms of her pregnancy. She was still allowed to stand at his side and negotiate if he deemed the partner safe. And for some reason, he believed Miami was safe. She was about to disabuse him of that notion and likely send herself back into bedroom lockup for the next six months.

She side-eyed Diego, the snake. Worth it.

“Mexico will not be available to you until further notice,” Reyes was telling Diego. “You will have to make do with your other connections. I can put you in touch with Sotza in Venezuela; he’ll be reluctant to work with an Ignacio associate but he may be willing with a word from me.”

Casey snorted lightly, tuned them out and continued to stroke her belly. She wondered if her little jellybean would have black hair or powdery white blond hair. She ignored the look that Reyes shot her. She didn’t care if he thought she was being immature. Diego was a piece of shit and there was no chance the regal, deadly Sotza was going to work with him. In fact, she was entirely certain that it would take Reyes a matter of days, if not hours, to learn the truth about Diego. Reyes was only using the man because he was easy and convenient. She knew, realistically, that most of these guys were their own level of disgusting, the majority without integrity. If Reyes refused to work with all of them, then he wouldn’t have anyone left to work with.

Still, Casey wasn’t quite done avenging herself and her family. She was biding her time, like any good black widow. Waiting for her chance to lure the fly into her trap. She glanced sideways, wondering if they were going to wrap things up soon so she could murder the crap out of her nemesis, when her gaze drifted to Ignacio’s statue, the one she’d always hated so much. Her eyes lit up and she wandered toward it.

She stood studying the naked cherub with new eyes. It had always caused her to wonder if Ignacio wasn’t so much impotent as into children. He did seem to prefer her looks when she was younger, more child-like. She shuddered.

She was so absorbed in the horrible statue she didn’t hear the men’s conversation wrap up or Diego approach her from behind. He slid an arm around her waist, digging his fingers brutally into her hip, causing her to jump in shock. He brought her body back into his, slamming her ass into his cock. She gasped and cried out, but he covered her mouth with his hand. She glanced back over his shoulder and saw Reyes outside the patio doors with his back to her, standing with Alejandro deep in discussion.

“Can’t wait to get you alone, Casey. Just you and me, baby,” Diego breathed in her ear. “Ah, the things I’m gonna finally get to do to this body. Fuck, it makes me so fucking hard.”

Diego, the motherfucker, had done exactly as she’d hoped by biding his time, waiting to catch her alone. Only she hadn’t been paying attention. But she had a secret weapon, one he would never guess she could possibly have developed in the past few months. She’d become strong, risen up. Despite the strength in his arms, the black, ugly thoughts in his head and the sadism in his heart, he was no match for Casey. She had her own strength. She was a queen.

She knew he was expecting her to allow his grope, allow him to touch her so he might release her faster. She wasn’t sure what his plan was after that though. Did he truly think she wouldn’t tell Reyes? Did he think Reyes would believe Diego over the woman Reyes had flown all the way to Miami just to stand at his side. She rolled her eyes. Please son, take a number, this bitch is his everything. This is why she needed to show Reyes that Diego should be replaced, the man was just stupid. He probably couldn’t negotiate his way out of a paper bag.

She grabbed one of the fingers that Diego had placed conveniently at her waist and snapped it back so hard it broke instantly. He howled in pain, let her go and bent over double clutching his finger. Casey whirled around, intent on kneeing him in the face, but then the statue caught her eye again. Oh, even better! She grabbed it with both hands and hauled the heavy piece of gaudy art work off the pedestal. She lifted it as high as she could and viciously brought it down on the back of Diego’s head just as Reyes and Alejandro came rushing in the back door.

Casey let the statue fall from her hands, wincing a little as it smashed Diego’s hand where he lay dazed on the floor, whimpering and bleeding. Well that was a happy accident. She’d been having a lot of those lately.

She turned to the desk and reached for her purse where she’d left it earlier, dragged it toward her and began rummaging through it. Reyes took the scene in at a glance and seemed to assess what had gone down. He apparently came to the conclusion that his woman had things well under control, crossed his arms over his broad chest and merely raised an eyebrow.

“What are you looking for, cariña?” Reyes asked negligently, eyeing her as she searched through her bag.

“My gun,” she huffed, lips pursed in annoyance.

“Well maybe if you carried a reasonable size purse for once, nena,” Reyes pointed out, amusement clear in his voice despite his words.

Diego let out a pitiful groan from the floor and tried to rock himself into a sitting position while blood gushed from the head wound she’d given him.

She turned on Reyes, fury snapping in her dual-coloured eyes. He smirked, clearly enjoying the sight of her when she was fuming. “Really, Reyes? Really?” she snarled one hand still buried in her oversized bag. “You brought me back to the home where you murdered my first husband… and yes, before you say anything, he absolutely deserved it, but you brought me back into this horror show of a mausoleum to be insulted by this creepy little cockroach.” When Diego made a sound of protest she kicked him viciously in the knee with the pointy toe of her shoe.

Reyes grabbed her arm and pulled her out of Diego’s way before Diego could grab her and drag her to the floor as he clearly intended to do when he swiped for her ankle. “What did he say to cause this, Casey? My god, woman, you threw a fucking statue at him,” he said incredulously. “You shouldn’t be lifting heavy shit while you’re pregnant, nena. You know better.” Alejandro attempted unsuccessfully to cover his laughter with a cough. Reyes pointed at Diego who was trying to pick himself up off the floor and snarled, “Stay down, cockroach.”

Alejandro let loose and guffawed. Everyone in the room ignored him.

Casey dropped her purse on the desk with an aggrieved sigh and placed a hand on her hip. “He implied that the moment he got me alone he’d unleash his sadistic tendencies on me. And this time he wouldn’t hold back.” She eyed Diego with disgust. “Well, this time I didn’t hold back, did I, Diego?” she taunted, loathing clear in her voice.

“Puta,” he spat at her from the floor. “Mob trash! That’s all you ever were and all you’ll ever be.”

Stupid move really, considering Reyes had gone deadly still, his glittering eyes on Casey as she watched Ignacio’s number one henchman. The same man who had spent years stalking and torturing her at every opportunity. “Explain your words, Casey,” Reyes said, his voice so low and dangerous she barely caught the words. “In detail.”

She swallowed and moved her gaze to meet Reyes’, knowing instinctively he would want her eyes when she told him the intimate details of what this man had done to her. “He never touched me unless Ignacio ordered it. Ignacio didn’t often have the stomach for real punishments and torture unless he had to prove himself in front of his men, but this one,” she nodded toward Diego, “just loves fucking people up, and he’s had a thing for me for years. He loved getting his hands on me every chance he could. Whenever Ignacio let him off his leash, he would do his best to make my life a misery. Tying me down, locking me up… punching, slapping, pinching, sometimes cutting. He was under orders never to go too far with Ignacio’s property… I had to stay attractive, an asset. But I knew, I just fucking knew, he was waiting for the day he could get his hands on me and completely unleash. This disgusting little slug thought today might be the day. Thought maybe you’d turn your back long enough he could finally snatch me up and play with me the way he’s always wanted to.” She felt Alejandro approach her back as she spoke, his silent warmth supporting her almost as much as Reyes unwavering love.

“And,” she whispered, “he was there when my family died. He was only a few years older than me and didn’t take part in the shootings, but he was there. I remember he watched as Ignacio pulled the trigger on me.” She looked coldly down at Diego who finally had the good sense to cower.

Reyes reached under his jacket to pull his gun from its holster. “What do you plan to do, nena?”

“What do you think, nino?” she said with a huff, sticking her hand out. “I plan on having a tea party with him.”

“Fuck, woman,” he growled slapping the gun into her palm. “Told you what would happen next time you called me that. You’re damn lucky there are witnesses or I’d have you over my knee.”

Without barely looking toward Diego, she shot him in the shoulder and then shouted at Reyes over Diego’s cries of pain, “Stop calling me nena and I’ll stop calling you nino!”

Reyes stalked her around the desk and then bent her backwards over the surface with her arms braced behind her, the gun still clutched in one hand. He wrapped one arm around her waist and yanked her into the heat of his body. They both ignored Diego’s groans and Alejandro’s chuckled amusement.

“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want, Casey, mi amor,” he growled and reached down to hike her tight skirt up enough that he could wrap her long leg around him.

“And what’ll you call me now, Reyes?” she whispered against him.

“Mi reina,” he whispered back. “Always, mi reina.”

He pressed his lips to hers. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, though the heat that burned so brightly between them flamed to life in her breast, it was a kiss of promise. A seal of their partnership. He had stolen her, he had helped raise her up and now he was declaring her his equal.

Diego took that moment of distraction to lunge for the door in a desperate attempt to escape his fate. Casey gave her head a tiny shake and rolled her eyes, because really, how far did he think he was going to get? He had a vicious head wound, a bullet in his shoulder and three very dangerous individuals stalking his back. She didn’t think Reyes would mind a good eye roll just this once since it was directed at the bleeding idiot bee-lining for the door. She broke their lovely little moment, glanced over Reyes shoulder, lifted the gun and shot Diego in the back, right through his black, sadistic little heart.

“Damn, I was really hoping he would get tortured a little more than that,” she sighed heartbrokenly, leaning her head against Reyes neck.

Reyes and Alejandro laughed and Reyes leaned down to kiss her pouting lips. “Dammit woman, you’re hell on my Miami connections,” he grumbled.

She gave him a light shove and stood up to straighten her skirt when he finally gave her enough space. She grinned at him and patted his chest, swinging her bag off the desk. “No worries, darling, I have a contact. She’ll be golden once we get rid of her husband and help her clean up. She knows this business like nobodies business. Trust me.”

Reyes gave her a sharp look. “A mafia wife?” he said.

Casey gave him a wicked smile. “You think I’m the only one that knows how to shut up and pay attention?”

He laughed and held out his hand for her. “Casey, I don’t think you stopped talking since the moment we landed in Bolivia.” His warm eyes caressed her. “And cariña, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

And in a single moment of clarity, the past ten years rushed at her. He was right. She’d kept it all in, barely said anything to anyone because she’d learned to keep Casey in a cage. To never let her out lest she get crushed and destroyed. Then Reyes came along, peeked between the bars and seen the woman within. He smashed the lock, reached in and coaxed her out. He encouraged her to find the will to rise up and become Casey again.

She placed her hand in his and said, “Let’s go home,”

36

“You take the pain away or I take everything you love!” Reyes snarled from the end of the bed, pointing his finger in the obstetrician’s face.

“Reyes!” Casey shrieked, gripping a fistful of blankets in her long, slim fingers and giving him a glare that rivalled even his best death glare. “Either shut the fuck up or leave! Let the man do his job,” she snarled from between clenched teeth as another labour pain hit her.

“Not fucking likely, Casey,” he growled back and turned to the baby doctor, two nurses and Miguel who were hovering next to his wife. He’d had the birthing team specially flown in two weeks earlier and paid them all exorbitantly to follow Casey’s every move, much to her annoyance. “What the fuck are you waiting for?” he shouted at them. “Fix her!”

All three medical professionals stood gaping at him, too terrified of the volatile cartel boss to dare touch his woman while he was in the room. Miguel just rolled his eyes, used to Reyes’ temper when it came to Casey. Casey let loose another shriek of frustration, struggled to push herself into a sitting position and reached under her pillow. She yanked her special gun out and, with shaking fingers, maneuvered the safety into the off positon. She shoved a fistful of hair off her face and pointed the weapon at her lover, who watched with dawning realization, a combination of anger and amusement warring for supremacy in his expression. She would pay for this clearly premediated stunt once she was recovered. She never slept with a weapon on her person, which meant she was anticipating his over-the-top concern for her safety and decided to take it upon herself to cut him off.

She took a deep breath and said in the calmest voice she could manage, “You will stop harassing my doctors, Reyes, if you would like to remain for the birth of your child. Otherwise you can leave the room and find out what happened later.” Then she broke his heart and ended his tirade with her next shakily spoken words. “I’m scared enough as it is. What if… what if…” Her voice drifted off and she stared at him, her dual-coloured eyes awash in tears as she stared at him helplessly.

He shoved the doctor out of his way and fell to the floor next to her, taking her free hand in both of his and holding it against his lips. “Won’t happen, cariña,” he whispered fervently, pressing the scarred back of her hand against his cheek. “You’ve got this, my gorgeous esposa. You are the strongest woman I know. You will bring our screaming child into the world, mi reina.”

She reached for him with her other hand, accidentally smashing him in the side of the head with her gun. He didn’t flinch as she cupped his face in both hands. Miguel hastily removed the weapon from her loose fingers so she didn’t accidentally shoot the baby’s father. Casey leaned over her extended belly and urged Reyes further up the bed so she could kiss him.

“Promise our baby will be okay?” she whispered against him, her eyes bright on his.

“You have my word, Casey,” he breathed against her mouth. “Siempre.” Always.

She nodded and squeezed him, pressing her forehead against him. He could tell another labour pain was hitting her, but she barely flinched. Instead she stayed in that moment with him. He could feel her lashes fluttering against the skin of his cheek as she shifted her face and bore the pain on her own. He could feel the savage fury rising up within him, painting his guts black with an inferno of raw emotion. When it came to this woman, nothing mattered except keeping her safe. As much as he wanted the little life within her, he wanted her to be healthy and happy more. Her pain was breaking him.

A tear, the first to have escaped him since the loss of his mother and sisters, slid from his eye and touched his scarred cheek. Casey captured it on her thumb before anyone else could witness his brief moment of weakness. She opened her eyes and stared into his. “Protect us with your life, Reyes,” she whispered, “and I will be tu reina. Siempre.”

He nodded and stood from the bed. He gave her scarred hand one last squeeze before stepping away from the bed. He nodded at the medical team. “You may proceed.” When they didn’t move, he barked, “What the fuck are you waiting for? She’s having a baby, right? Are you just going to watch?”

Casey laughed weakly as they rushed to do his bidding. She looked at Miguel with a smile and patted the bed next to her asking wordlessly for her good friend to join her. He brushed past her husband, having had almost a year now to get over his fear of torture and death, and sat next to her. He held her hand and they chatted in between her contractions.

Periodically, he made sure she updated him on all of her symptoms, particularly anything going on in her head. While her migraines had gotten much better over the past year with the right balance of medications to help and constant progress being made in the field, she was still at risk for possible stroke if her blood pressure rose too high. It had taken months of arguing and both her and Miguel’s combined voices to convince Reyes that she shouldn’t just be drugged and the baby removed at the right time. The only argument that had worked was that it wouldn’t be good for the baby and Casey couldn’t possibly handle another child’s death.

But as her contractions grew closer together and her blood pressure slowly rose, along with a rising pain in the base of her skull alerting them to a potential migraine, Reyes became more and more agitated. He paced the room like a caged lion, snapping at everyone, ready to pounce at the first sign that something was wrong with his woman or his baby. The obstetrician looked as though he might throw up every time Reyes neared him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Casey,” Miguel said calmly from beside her as she gritted her teeth and tried not to push, as per the doctor’s orders. She side-eyed Miguel in what looked like a murderous squint. “You need to calm down a touch. Your blood pressure is getting too high and I’m a little concerned.”

Reyes’ head snapped up and he stopped pacing, staring, waiting to see if she would comply with her personal neurologist. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his hands into fists, trying to ignore the need to tear the world apart, to commit unspeakable acts of rage so that his soul might rest in peace for a few minutes.

Casey squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, trying to breathe through the pain in her head and the terror welling up inside her. He saw the thoughts written on her face the moment she opened her eyes and met his. What if her baby didn’t survive because she couldn’t manage the pain of birth? Because she wasn’t strong enough to bring the baby into the world without having a stroke.

“Reyes!” she cried reaching for him. “I need you.”

Miguel backed away from the bed and gave Reyes room. He immediately climbed in behind her and carefully manoeuvered her until she was resting against his chest with her head on his shoulder. He could feel her heart pounding like thunder through her back where she rested heavily against him. He sat with his legs bent underneath her arms, his warmth surrounding her entire body. She turned her face into his neck, closed her eyes and breathed his scent deep into her lungs, savouring him as tears dripped gently down her cheeks. He smoothed the sweat-soaked hair back off her face and tucked the strands behind her ear before gently kissing her.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“I know, nena,” he whispered back. He tilted her face up until she was forced to look at him. “Do you think I would ever let anything happen to you?”

“No,” she said instantly. “Never.”

“Nunca,” he agreed solemnly. “You belong to me forever.”

She nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “I think I need to push now.”

Their daughter was born thirty-seven minutes later. It took another hour for Miguel and Casey to get the severe migraine she experienced during the birthing process under control. Reyes paced the room with their daughter held in his arms, terror clawing at his heart until he thought he would fall to his knees and beg for God to take him if He would just spare Casey this pain. She tried weakly to reassure him, whispering from the bed where the nurses had changed the sheets and dimmed the lights, but she was in too much pain.

When the IV fluids and medication finally took effect, she was able to hold her child for the first time. Miguel and the rest of her birth team left the room. Reyes lay next to her on the bed watching the two most important people in his life with fierce possessiveness. He could already see the future mapped out for them. A whole lot of mother and daughter attempting to negotiate for freedoms he would never allow. And he would love every moment of it.

“What will we name her?” Reyes asked, emotion shining clear in his eyes as he watched the woman he loved cradle their daughter against her chest and hold her as though she would never let go.

“Sally,” Casey said instantly, without a single moment of hesitation.

Reyes straightened from behind her, disgust warring to replace his peace. “Absolutely not!”

Casey didn’t even bat an eyelash. She traced the tip of her finger down the powdery soft cheek and across the perfect, tiny lips. “Sally is Jack Skellington’s counterpart, his other half. Nothing else will do.”

Reyes felt something expand and then explode in his chest. Like a bubble he’d been holding onto for all the pain his woman had gone through. She was finally safe and whole. Maybe he would never truly be able to let go of her past, the way she seemed to be doing. Maybe he would continue to search out and torture anyone associated with anyone who had ever harmed a hair on her head… or even looked at her funny. But he was ready to admit that she had moved on. That Casey’s inner core of steel had not only strengthened her, but healed her as well.

“Alright, mi reina,” he said after a moment, caressing first the fine blond of her hair and then reaching past to run a finger over the fine blond that promised to sprout from their daughter’s head. “Sally it is.”

“Thank you, mi rey,” Casey whispered, tilting her head back, finally taking her eyes off the child to kiss his jaw.

“But just in case she needs a back-up name one day, how do you like Mariana?” Reyes asked. “It was my mother’s.”

“It’s perfect,” Casey said with a smile, then shifted Sally Mariana in her arms and reached for the buttons on her nightgown. “Now do you remember what the nurse said about breast feeding? Can you go get her? And I swear to god Reyes, if you threaten her life, I’ll shoot you in the foot or somewhere else painful but useless.”

37

“This was your idea, nena,” Reyes reminded her while attempting to disguise the impatience in his voice.

She eyed him as though he were about to pounce on her and slowly backed away from him, glancing sideways for escape routes. Sure, it had been her idea, and it had seemed super badass and smart at the time, but now seeing and smelling his burnt flesh was making her seriously rethink the brilliancy of this plan. As soon as she’d pressed the burning hot iron to the skin of his neck, pushing hard to imprint the mark of a male crown into his skin she’d started to have her doubts. He’d stood strong and stoic, never once flinching. Only the tiny ripple of his pectoral muscles, bared for the ceremony, gave away his pain. As soon as enough time had passed she’d dropped the small, intricate iron and stepped away, staring in awe at the mark she’d created.

“Wh-what about a tattoo for me instead?” she asked, hoping he might go for a compromise, though she really didn’t want a tattoo either and as soon as she was away from the branding ceremony she was bailing on that idea too.

Reyes grunted and approached her. Casey jumped back, holding her hand out to him, warding him off, her gorgeous white dress fluttering in the evening breeze. The few people attending their wedding and branding had wandered several feet away and were pretending not to hear the exchange. Except for Alejandro, who was laughing his ass off.

Reyes took her hand and brought it to his lips, caressing the scar lightly. Then he pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest. In her bare feet, she was shorter than him and able to lay her head against his uninjured shoulder. “It’s won’t hurt, nena, I promise. I will be with you through every step, it won’t be like last time. Our love will carry you through and your strength will ensure you stand tall. Understand, mi amor?”

She nodded and murmured, “I understand.” And she did. Reyes would never let anything happen to her. The only person that was ever allowed to hurt her was her husband and he made it hurt good. Pain at his hands was pleasure.

They’d exchanged their wedding vows on a secluded beach in Peru, secured by their people and surrounded by only their closest friends and family. Casey’s cousin stood between Alejandro and Miguel, looking lovely in a flowing dress that buttoned down her front with Sally Mariana held in her arms, wrapped snuggly in a warm blanket. It had taken very little to convince Gina to come and live with them in Bolivia. Both women had quickly reconnected emotionally, despite the fuzziness of Casey’s memories. The more time she spent with her cousin though, the more they came back to her. Gina utterly adored the baby and was happy to share nanny duties when her cousin was exhausted or needed for work. Gina had become such an important part of their household that Casey was beginning to insist she come with them whenever she needed to travel with the baby as she was still breastfeeding and couldn’t be away from Sally for longer than a day. Casey noticed that Alejandro had absolutely no problem with this arrangement as he was usually travelling with the group.

“Ready, nena?” Reyes asked, pulling her attention back toward him.

Her distracted gaze followed the flexing movement of his hand as he pulled the delicate metal from the heat and lifted it to show her. She tilted her head to the side and gave him a short nod. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, thinking of everything wonderful he’d brought into her life. Reyes had stolen her from Ignacio and then he’d gifted her with freedom, love, vengeance and a family. She would give him this. A mark that would forever be his.

He fisted her long blond hair in his free hand and tilted her head back, then slowly rotated their bodies so they were turned away from their friends. He leaned in and whispered against her ear, “Open your eyes for me, Casey.”

She did. She was facing the sunset. She could see streaks scoring the sky, striking out from the sun and gradually fading across the clouds into the gathering darkness. She wished Reyes could see the beauty in her shades of grey as he wanted her to see the reds, oranges and yellows of his sunset.

“You see the colours?” he asked.

“Si, Reyes, I see them through your eyes,” she told him.

He used her hair to tilt her head to the side and pressed the brand into her neck. She breathed deep, taking the pain into her soul, knowing Reyes had her. Siempre. Forever; the king and his scarred queen.

THE END

Alejandro’s Prey

Book 1.5

Contents

Untitled

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

Chapter 16

Epilogue

Untitled

Dance with me.

Bring my demons
to their knees.

-Nicole Lyons

1

“Where’s your cousin?” Alejandro approached Casey, eyeing the vicinity for another bright blond head and coming up empty.

“Umm, she’s around here somewhere,” Casey hedged and didn’t look up at him but continued to play with the baby in her lap.

The first indication he had that something was wrong. Casey looked everyone in the eye. She never backed down from any kind of challenge. Unless something was up that she wasn’t prepared to discuss. Fuck that. If it involved her delectable cousin, it involved him.

Alejandro hunkered down in front of her and the baby, folding his tall, muscular form close to hers. He wanted to tilt her chin, to force her to look at him while he demanded his answers, but he knew touching would not be tolerated by the boss. He understood, he would feel the same about his own woman.

“Where is she, Casey?” he asked, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Casey shrugged, still refusing to lift her eyes.

“I will take this matter to Reyes if you do not answer me now.” His usual easy manner of speaking gave way to impatience. He liked the mistress of the house and usually they got along great, both having a similar sense of humour. Except lately the issue of her cousin was putting a strain on their relationship. Casey was protecting the timid woman from him and this could not be allowed to continue. He was done pussyfooting around the women’s feelings. He wanted his woman in his home and in his life.

Finally, she lifted her eyes, flashing fire at him. He ginned back, giving her the edge of his savage teeth. She was not shy like Gina. She put her husband through hell.

“You are a tattletale and a bully, Alejandro,” Casey informed him loftily.

He shrugged. “Whatever gets me what I want fastest. Now tell me where she is or deal with your husband’s legendary temper.”

She sighed through her nose and rolled her eyes, something she would never dare do if Reyes were in the vicinity. “What makes you think my husband’ll take your side?” she asked, stalling for time.

Alejandro leaned in as close to her as he dared. “Because he marked your pretty little cousin for me the moment I declared my intentions. She was always mine for the taking.”

Her mouth fell open and she stared up at him in shock. “Wh-what!” she exclaimed. “How come I didn’t know about this? Why haven’t you done anything about it? She’s been here for over a year!”

“I’ve been biding my time, watching and waiting. I’m not like the boss,” he told her, his eyes flicking to the baby squirming energetically in her arms. “I have patience. Gina wasn’t ready for a commitment when she came to live here; especially not to a man like me.”

“A man like you,” Casey scoffed.

His eyes met hers in a deadly flash and her antagonism fell away as understanding dawned. He was a man of war. A man that enforced the rules his master created. He killed, maimed and tortured indiscriminately when necessary. He took without asking. While Gina hadn’t had an easy life, she’d been largely sheltered from men like him. Unlike Casey, she hadn’t witnessed the murder of her family. She’d been away at school when her parents and brother had been executed, then she’d been whisked away to safety by the Venezuelan mob boss, Sosa.

“I’m done waiting for her.”

She nodded slowly, searching his face. Finally, she said, “If I tell you where she is, do you promise not to get angry and do something completely unnecessary and over the top, like kill someone?”

He frowned, not liking the direction she was going. It almost sounded like… “Where the fuck is she, Casey?”

“Umm… she sort of went on a date.”

“Excuse me?” He stared at her incredulously for a split second before fury replaced his surprise. “She hasn’t touched anyone since moving here. I made sure of it,” he snarled. “Who the fuck did she go out with?”

“I don’t think I should tell you,” Casey whispered, anxiety replacing her usual bravado. “I’m afraid you’re going to murder him, and I really do need him alive.”

“The doctor,” he snapped, reading between the lines. She reached out for his arm to stop him, but he stood and towered over her. “Where did they go?” When it looked as though she wouldn’t speak, he said, “I won’t kill your fucking doctor if you tell me now. If you force me to go looking I make no promises.”

“Shit,” she hissed, then whispered an apology to baby Sally, gently covering her ears. “Fine. They borrowed a helicopter and went to the city.”

Alejandro spun on his heel and stalked away from her.

“Wait!” she called after him, scrambling to her feet, her daughter clutched securely in her arms. “What are you going to do? Will you also promise not to dismember him either? I need his hands too!”

2

“I’ve been expecting you,” Reyes said, not looking up from his paperwork.

Alejandro closed the door to the office firmly behind him. They’d known each other for over twelve years, the boss knew his knock by now. Reyes had lured Alejandro away from his Venezuelan commando unit with the promise of riches and a life-saving health treatment for his mother. He’d gone to work for the Bolivian mobster and never looked back. They didn’t stand on ceremony with each other. Now he stood in front of the same desk he’d been in front of thousands of time – dispensing advice, giving his valued opinion and taking orders.

“Permission to take a helicopter.”

Reyes didn’t look up. “Denied.”

Alejandro was pissed by the immediate denial of his request but unsurprised. There were multiple helicopters for a reason – so the family wouldn’t become stranded in the valley in case of emergency. He gritted his teeth. He considered this an emergency and so would the doctor if he laid so much as one single finger on Gina.

Reyes set his papers aside, leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. “Have a seat,” he commanded. An order, not a request. Alejandro didn’t want to waste a single second in the collection of his woman. Reyes grunted in annoyance, apparently sensing the hesitation in his second-in-command. “You aren’t leaving this mountain until she gets back. Sit the fuck down. Now.”

Alejandro dropped his heavy frame into one of the chairs, ignoring the slight creak as it adjusted to his weight. Reyes nodded in satisfaction. “Tall bastard, hurts my neck looking up at you all the time.” He chuckled, showing there were no hard feelings. One never knew with Reyes, he was an unpredictable dictator. He eyed the other man. “So, you finally decided to make a move on the woman you claimed a year ago only to discover my wife’s doctor has scooped her out from under you.”

Alejandro made an unintelligible snarling sound.

Reyes lifted his arms in commiseration. “Hey, mi amigo, she was always yours for the taking. I’m on your side. I’m just saying, wait for the other damn helicopter to come back before you leave the mountain. Got it?”

“What if he fucking touches her while they’re in La Paz?” he snarled.

Reyes smiled grimly. “Then you have my permission to remove whatever part of him touches your property. Good enough?”

Alejandro pulled his lips back into a feral smile, showing a frightening number of teeth and nodded. He stood slowly. “Permission to take an extended vacation with the nanny.”

Reyes waved him away. “You’re no good to me like this. Permission granted. Come back with your head on straight and your girl under your jurisdiction.” Alejandro turned to leave the room. Before he touched the door, Reyes spoke again, “As you will be distracted this weekend, I’ll send a unit for backup. You make a decent target and I’d rather not go to war over your hide.”

Alejandro jerked his chin over a shoulder and opened his mouth to respond. Reyes cut him off. “Non-negotiable, amigo. I know how much you love a good bloodbath, but this is the time for flowers and whatever else women want. You concentrate on the girl, I’ll watch your back.”

Alejandro grunted in response, jerked the door open and left without another word.

“I had so much fun!” Gina exclaimed, pulling her headset off and grinning at Miguel who was doing the same on the other side of her. “It was so refreshing getting out of the valley for a few hours.”

He nodded and smiled back, his eyes warm and his expression kind. “I agree. I had a wonderful time, Gina. Hopefully we can do it again soon.”

She averted her face feeling slightly guilty, knowing he felt more for her than she did for him. In a way, she’d used him and his feelings for her to get out of the damn mountains for the day. But she’d needed to get out from under a certain dictator’s thumb. And she wasn’t talking about the boss, Reyes. She meant his oppressive second-in-command. The man that stalked her every step, watching and waiting as though readying himself to pounce… but then nothing. The tension was driving her crazy.

And his insane rules! What was wrong with the man?

Alejandro made it his business to get in her business everywhere she went, tossing out arbitrary rules that made no sense to her. She couldn’t eat or spend time alone with anyone except the immediate family unless he was present. If one of his men so much as spoke to her, even to ask about her day, he’d be lucky if scrubbing toilets for a month was his only punishment. She wasn’t allowed to communicate with the outside world unless Alejandro approved her phone calls and emails. He even opened and read her incoming and outgoing mail, and not discreetly!

When she balked at his many edicts he simply added more rules and enforced them either physically, by locking her in her bedroom or by cutting off her communication to the outside world altogether. And though she’d wanted to throw a temper tantrum worthy of her dear cousin, Casey, she was terrified of the big man and his psychotic boss. So she’d quietly acquiesced, occasionally finding ways to break the rules with Casey’s help. Thankfully Alejandro never seemed to find out about her small rebellions.

“Me too,” she said enthusiastically. “But I don’t know when we’ll get the helicopter again. I think Casey had to pull some strings with Reyes to get us this trip. I’m surprised he even said yes.”

Miguel got out of the helicopter first and reached a hand in to help her out. She never got a chance to take it. He was wrenched away from the opening with such force that she was left stunned. She rushed to the door when she heard flesh hitting flesh and saw Miguel on the ground with a bloody face, Alejandro standing over top of him. Gina shrieked and scrambled from the helicopter.

Alejandro turned dark, coldly furious eyes on her, stopping her in her tracks. She glanced helplessly toward Miguel. She wanted to rush to his aid, but she didn’t want to get anywhere near the terrifying mob enforcer.

“What did I tell you about being alone with anyone except family, Gina,” Alejandro snapped at her as though she were one of his soldiers.

She swallowed and dropped her eyes to the ground. “Y-you told me not to,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Except he’s practically family!”

“This scum is not family,” Alejandro snarled and kicked Miguel in the side.

Setting her terror of the big man’s fury aside, Gina hurled herself toward the men, intent on putting herself between them. She was hoping Alejandro wouldn’t actually harm her since he hadn’t physically done so yet. He grabbed her arm in an iron grip before she could fling herself on top of the doctor. She cried out as he brought her around to face him.

Alejandro stood much taller than her, around 6’4”, which would have made her almost a foot shorter if she hadn’t been wearing three-inch heels. He was nearly twice as wide as her with broad, muscular shoulders and huge biceps. She knew exactly how conditioned and honed to perfection his body was, having seen him work out many times with his men. She shivered at the look in his eyes. Cold, terrifying and utterly without mercy. Had she really just courted the attention of such a man by going out with another? Was she insane?

“Get back on the helicopter, Gina,” he said in a chillingly quiet voice as though giving an everyday command instead of telling her to do something she knew she shouldn’t.

The breath caught in her throat and she watched him through wary grey eyes. She understood that if she got on the helicopter he would get on with her and then he would take her somewhere where they would be alone. Finally, alone. The invisible sand had run out. Whatever timeline he’d given her when she’d first moved to the valley was over; he was done waiting.

But was she done running from him? When she’d set this day up she’d done it with the full comprehension that she would be provoking a reaction from a very dangerous man. Unfortunately, she thought she would be back in the safety of her home, under her cousin’s wing when Alejandro’s wrath fell. Holding his terrifying gaze, she slowly shook her head and held her ground. She would rather deal with his temper within the safety of the compound.

“Are you refusing to go away with me?” he asked, almost pleasantly.

“Y-yes,” she whispered. The wind caught her honey-blond, layered locks and flung them across her face. He reached to move them away for her, tucking them behind her ear, his touch gentle. Still, she flinched.

He moved her to his side, retaining his hold on her arm. He pulled his sidearm and pointed it at Miguel, aiming for the doctor’s head. Miguel groaned and covered his head with his arms, as though his flesh could stop a bullet.

“You still refuse to get on the helicopter?” Alejandro asked, eyebrow raised.

She stared back at him and then said as defiantly as she could, “You’re a bastard, Alejandro, but I’ll go with you. Just please leave him alone.”

He released her arm and gave her a shove toward the helicopter. When she turned and walked slowly back the way she’d come Alejandro made eye contact with the pilot and gave him a twirling motion with his finger. The pilot nodded back and started the helicopter up again, setting the blades in motion. Gina looked back over her shoulder as she climbed on board. Trepidation clutched at her heart. Alejandro was crouched over Miguel, the gun pressed against the other man’s skull. He was speaking to him with a look of feral rage plastered across his face, a look she’d never seen before. She’d known him to be angry, but his anger was always coldly efficient, never this heated fury.

Alejandro stood and turned to where Gina was crouched in the doorway of the helicopter. His eyes devoured her for a second, taking in the way her skirt and hair lifted slightly from the breeze created by the blades as they picked up speed. Then he was striding toward her, intent glittering through his narrowed gaze. Gina quickly backed away from the door and took the seat she’d been in only minutes before. Alejandro swung through the door, closed and locked it as he settled in beside her.

When he reached for her seatbelt she tried to slap his hand away, mumbling that she could do it herself. He took her hands firmly in his. “You do not want to test my patience right now, Gina. It’s thin at best. Now be a good girl and shut up.”

Her mouth fell open and she sat in helpless silence as he latched her seatbelt, tugged on it to make sure it was snug against her body and then pulled her headset back on. Satisfied, he did the same for himself. Moments later they were airborne. Gina watched him through black-tinted lashes, cataloguing every move he made. Alejandro was beautiful, like a large, lethal cat when he moved. Maybe a panther. One moment lazy, the next he would strike with such quick efficiency, his victim was on the ground before he knew what was happening. For the moment though, he appeared relaxed in the seat next to hers, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair, his hands loose against his long legs.

It occurred to Gina that this was almost the first time she was left alone with Alejandro with a handful of exceptions. Absently she lifted her fingers against the pulse beat in her throat as it accelerated. After they had been flying for about fifteen minutes in complete silence she finally turned to him and asked, attempting to keep her voice steady, “Where are we going?”

He flashed her a grin. “Ah, so the little mouse finally gets brave enough to speak.”

“Alejandro,” she pleaded with him. “Please just tell me. Where are we going?”

The playful grin slid from his face, but the predatory look remained firmly in place as his eyes slid over her possessively. “We have a date with a priest, mi amor.”

3

Gina chose to remain silent throughout most of their forty-minute flight to La Paz and Alejandro didn’t insist on conversation, not an easy thing to accomplish anyway even with the headsets. Gina didn’t want to question his implication of what a priest could possibly mean in case she was wrong. In fact, she must be wrong. He couldn’t possibly… no. Why would he want to marry her?

Of course, she knew he lusted after her, he made no secret of this. He’d spent a year stalking her with both his eyes and his actions. He’d done his best to keep other men away from her. She’d always sort of wondered what kept him at bay since he didn’t seem like the sort of man to deny himself something he really wanted. At first, she’d been relieved that he hadn’t simply taken her, but as the months passed a part of her had become gradually disappointed and hurt. After all, Alejandro was a very handsome man. It was both breathtaking and terrifying to be the focus of his attention. Plus… if she were being totally honest, her options were pretty limited way up there in the mountains.

According to the kitchen staff, he stopped touching any of the women on the mountain after Gina’s and Casey’s arrival. They assumed he must now be going into La Paz for his amusement out of respect for the women of the house. Another tiny shaft of hurt had quivered through Gina at the thought. She’d shrugged it off as simple annoyance because he was allowed to seek companionship elsewhere but was making damn sure the men within her vicinity knew touching her would mean instant death.

Thus, she and Casey had hatched a plan to ensure Gina finally got a little off-mountain time with the friendly doctor. Of course, Gina hadn’t confided in Casey the part of her plan that included prodding Alejandro and courting his annoyance. She wanted to see once and for all if the second-in-command was actually into her. Well, she got her answer when Alejandro ruined what had been a perfectly pleasant date. Gina sent him a tiny glare and twisted her fingers in her lap. She really hoped Miguel would be okay. He wasn’t built for fighting. It hadn’t been fair of Alejandro to beat him so viciously.

“I can see your thoughts, little mouse.”

His deep, measured voice coming clear through the headset after such a prolonged silence made her jump. She glanced sideways at him and then turned her face away and looked through the windows. They were clearing the valleys and the first sight of sprawling La Paz was coming upon them.

She jumped as Alejandro took her chin firmly in hand and forced her head around until she was facing him. His eyebrows were lowered over dark brown, snapping eyes. He didn’t look angry… exactly. More annoyed. Her breath hitched and she clutched the armrests of her seat. Alejandro had rarely touched her since her arrival in Bolivia, though he was always watching. Watching and waiting. As if for the perfect time to pounce.

He leaned in until his lips were inches from her face. He spoke as though she could hear him naturally instead of through the speaker and headset. “It would be a mistake to ignore me, Gina. Our courtship dance has ended, and it’s time for us to get serious.”

Her heart pounded furiously as his words and his intent came through loud and clear.

“There are certain things I won’t tolerate from you, amor,” he said, his voice sinister and silky at the same time. She shivered as he slid his thumb across her jaw. “Your thoughts will no longer linger on other men.” His eyes snapped to hers, piercing deep, pinning her. “Entender?”

She sat in place, not daring to move or speak. Her mouth felt dry and her palms were damp from clinging to the armrests like a lifeline. In that moment she felt fear like she hadn’t felt in the dozen years since Sosa, the Venezuelan Butcher, helped her flee the United States after a Mexican Cartel had targeted her family. She knew deep in her bones that her life was about to change significantly. She resented Alejandro for stripping away her new-found confidence and once more forcing her to feel such uncertainty. She’d loved the feeling of safety she’d found in Bolivia with Casey. Yet, she also knew that no man could keep her as safe as this one. He’d spent a year proving it as he helped Reyes run his empire. He ate, breathed and slept security. She knew beyond a doubt that Alejandro Morales would take a bullet for her and anyone in her family. It was one of the reasons she loved him.

“You need to answer me, Gina,” he growled, speaking in English for her benefit, his accent sharp around each syllable. “Silence will never be an acceptable answer when I am speaking to you.”

She dropped her eyes so he couldn’t see the anger that leaped into the grey-blue depths. Alejandro could and would read too much there. He was not second-in-command to Bolivia’s mafia kingpin for no reason. He was excellent at his job. Excellent at reading people. She jerked her head in a nod, pulling her face from his long, brown fingers.

“Si, Alejandro,” she agreed quietly. “I understand.”

He allowed her to pull away from him and settled back into his seat as the helicopter began its descent into Reyes’ private airport, located on the outskirts of La Paz. She felt his eyes on her but refused to lift her own. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She wasn’t ready to reveal herself yet, not until she was sure of him. She needed to know, not just his plans for her, for them, but the way he felt for her.

He might have her heart, but he didn’t need to see all or any of her cards. She intended to keep them close at hand. He thought she was a mouse? Fine with her. Perhaps she was. She didn’t deal in death and mayhem quite the way he did. She was quiet and sweet, a bookworm. The nanny. She would wait and watch, find out what she meant to him; if anything.

The moment the helicopter landed he unbuckled himself, pushed the door open and reached for her. Gina pressed back in her seat and glared down but didn’t move. There was no point in fighting Alejandro; he was bigger, smarter and much, much deadlier than her. After he unbuckled her and pulled off her headset, he held out his hand. She frowned down at the long, rough fingers and tried to stand on her own, but he took her arm before she could slip by him. He leaned down so he could speak in her ear as the wind whipped up from the helicopter blades and flung her shoulder length blond hair up into their faces. His words were like dark silk as he spoke loud enough for her to hear over the noise of the engine powering down. “Do this the easy way, Gina, and I promise you’ll love being my wife.”

His wife. There it was again. But this time his words were undeniable. He intended to marry her, and she wasn’t to have a say. He helped her off the helicopter and pulled her forward several steps until they were level with the pilot. She stumbled a little in her state of confusion, but he held her tightly ensuring she wouldn’t trip.

Her legs felt like jelly, and she would’ve fallen if he hadn’t been holding her up. The implication of what life might be like if she fought his sudden possession of her was left unspoken but terrifyingly real. She knew what Alejandro was capable of. She had never seen it with her own eyes, of course. He was careful to shield that side of his job from her, but she heard the rumours, knew he wasn’t the second most feared man in Bolivia and beyond for no reason. Reyes often sent Alejandro places in his stead knowing the deadly man would accomplish whatever terrible and destructive job his boss set to him with ease and likely some relish. He excelled for a reason. He was more than just a thug in a suit. He was intelligent, persuasive, charming and utterly ruthless with a core of loyalty that was unquestionable. Each quality made him the man that helped build a king, the man that stood in front of and beside El Rey.

Gina felt completely powerless as she stood at his side and waited while he spoke to the pilot. Listened to him command the other man to return to the compound and leave them in La Paz for the weekend. She wanted to protest, the words leaping to her lips, but knew Alejandro would crush her denial. Just like he’d spent a year systematically isolating her in the mountains. Not that she’d been unhappy, but it wasn’t exactly the life she might have chosen for herself.

The warm air whipped around her, her skirt wrapping around her legs. She thought about spending the entire weekend with Alejandro. It was a daunting prospect. Did he expect her to share a bed with him? To have sex with him? Stupid Gina! Of course he did. Why else was she there? Why else was he talking marriage. She was so confused, so overwhelmed that nausea suddenly reached up to squeeze her stomach and close her throat. She would have folded in on herself if Alejandro hadn’t happened to look down at that moment, caught the paleness of her face and realized that she wasn’t doing well.

“You may leave,” he snapped imperiously at the pilot and wrapped an arm around her waist. He ran a hand across her back, cupped her neck and pulled her into a crouch right there on the tarmac. “Just breath, cariña.”

She nodded, tucking her chin so he couldn’t see the humiliation brightening her face. She wished she could be more like her cousin. Braver, able to face terrifying men and uncertain situations with nothing but a bad attitude and maybe a gun. Instead Gina would either vomit or faint in response to this situation. Maybe she should point that out to Alejandro? Maybe he would realize she was going to make a terrible mob wife and just leave her to a solitary, boring existence as the nanny with her books and bubble baths. She snorted with laughter, her breathing coming easier now.

Alejandro, who was crouched beside her, took her arm and helped her back to her feet, steadying her on her heels when she rocked back a little. “Better?” he asked, his voice deep with an edge of concern. He tilted her chin so he could scan her face and body to make sure she was truly feeling well enough to continue.

“Why me?” she asked, doing her best to swallow her panic and look him in the face. “Why do you want me, Alejandro?”

Alejandro looked back at her, his serious gaze wandering the length of her, a wealth of unspoken words passing between them. She thought perhaps she saw an apology there, as though he were genuinely sorry to have disrupted her comfortable life with his presence before he shuttered his eyes once more.

“It was always you, Gina,” he said, his voice somewhat grim. “It will always be you.”

4

Alejandro wrapped an arm around her waist and held her tight as they walked across the tarmac toward the waiting vehicles. True to his word Reyes had sent four men with two armoured vehicles to meet them at the airport. The men would act as Alejandro’s security while he was in La Paz wooing and wedding his woman. He wasn’t entirely pleased with the interference, but he knew better than to question it.

He held the door open and slid in next to her. Something in his chest seemed to relax and release slightly as he was finally able to look his fill. Soon he would touch and taste as well. No more waiting and watching, creating rules, corralling her; narrowing her world as he jealously watched over her from a distance. He’d known he wasn’t being exactly reasonable in his commands. He hadn’t cared. He’d wanted her to himself, yet he’d forced himself to wait. Gave the woman time to come to terms with her life in the mountains, come to terms with the brutal enforcer that would one day become her husband.

He watched her face, his eyes caressing every part that he could see, unabashed that he had the luxury to stare since he wasn’t driving. She wasn’t a stunning beauty like her cousin. Gina’s loveliness was subtler, something that grew on a person with each meeting. Her face had a soft roundness to it, yet each feature was distinct in its own way. Her high rounded cheeks and wide lips were by far her prettiest features, drawing the eye immediately. Unable to resist, Alejandro reached out and ran a finger across the top of her cheek then down to the edge of her lip and over her chin. She jumped at first and then held stiffly still as he caressed her. He dropped his hand to her shoulder and held her. A quiver of awareness ran through her.

He leaned toward her, brushed the blond hair from her ear and whispered for her alone, “You are not immune to my touch, Gina.”

Her quiver turned into a full shiver, and goosebumps rippled up her bare arm. He smiled, flashing her a toothy grin and ran the back of his hand up her arm. She shifted in her seat in attempt to put space between them. Of course, there was nowhere for her to go. She was trapped by a door and her seatbelt.

“It is good that my wife should perhaps want me just as much as I want her,” Alejandro murmured. “It will make our wedding night far more pleasant, don’t you think?”

He was teasing her, trying to get a reaction. It worked. Her grey eyes grew stormy and she pursed those wide perfect lips. Jerking her shoulder out of his hold she said in her throaty voice, “You think there’ll be a wedding night?”

He chuckled and grazed her chin with his knuckles. “I know there’ll be a wedding night, mi amor. And it will be so fucking caliente, you will never want to leave our bed.”

Her eyes flashed and narrowed. He thought maybe he’d gone too far with his little mouse, but then she shifted ever so slightly and pressed her knees together. He grinned and moved back in his seat, trying to ignore the growing tightness in his trousers. He didn’t need to give his men even more of a show by dragging the nanny across the seat and into his lap.

Then she made his day even better by saying in that perfect voice of hers, “You haven’t even asked me.”

“Asked you what?” He was completely sidetracked by having her to himself for the weekend and her gorgeous, curvy legs peeking out from her too-short skirt, which she kept tugging down but couldn’t quite get to cover her thighs all the way. Then he remembered she wore that damn dress on her date with the doctor and his amusement fled.

“Asked me to marry you,” she said sharply.

He lifted an eyebrow and stared at her, dark eyes clashing with light. “Our marriage is a foregone conclusion, cariña,” he told her arrogantly. “It was such from the moment you set foot in these mountains and into my care. What we do here this weekend is a mere formality, binds you to me in the eyes of God, though His approval was never necessary to this devil.” He flashed her a wicked grin.

She raised an eyebrow to match his and he could swear that somehow his little mouse was raising the heat in the car. And though Alejandro did not enjoy any kind of challenge to his authority, he fucking loved the way Gina was looking at him right then. If they had been alone in the car, he would pull over to the side of the road, toss her skirt up around her waist and use his fingers to force husky screams of pleasure from that luscious throat. Unfortunately, he could already feel the dark eyes of at least one too-curious young security man on him.

He lifted an arm and pointed his trigger finger at the rear-view mirror without looking to see who it was. He knew the driver was a veteran and smart enough to pretend he was deaf and dumb to Alejandro’s private business. He felt the moment the pup’s curious eyes snapped back to the passenger side window. Dropping his hand, he turned back to his prey and inhaled sharply.

“Fuck,” he groaned. She was more beautiful than he could have imagined when she looked at him like that, her eyes filled with angry passion. He thought he knew every facet of Gina’s character, but now that he’d decided to press his suit, she was showing him something new. Dark excitement filled him as the vehicle pulled up outside the hotel he’d booked. When Gina reached for the door he dropped a hand to her arm and held her in place. “You don’t move before I say.”

Used to accepting his orders as a matter of safety, she simply nodded without argument. Alejandro climbed out of his side and slammed the door shut. After glancing up and down the street, he lifted his head and enjoyed the heat of the sun and the cool caress of a mountain breeze against his skin before rounding the back of the vehicle. He nodded toward the two men who had pulled up behind them and were now flanking his vehicle, discreetly watching the street for hostiles.

Alejandro opened Gina’s door and reached for her hand. A thrill ran up his spine when she placed her small hand in his, accepting his help without complaint. She stepped out onto the sidewalk and leaned into him as she steadied herself on her heels. She looked up at him, her grey eyes wide and guileless. She used a long, graceful finger to sweep aside a lock of pale hair that had drifted across her face in the breeze.

“Alejandro?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Si, Gina, mi amor?” he answered, feeling generous. He had his girl on his arm, finally. He was in the city, about to take her for a night on the town. Life was good.

“Unless you want to drag your bride down the aisle kicking and screaming, you’ll ask me to marry you,” she said pertly, turning away from him to take several steps toward the hotel. Then she stopped and looked over her shoulder, a hard glint in her steel grey eyes. “And you’ll do it properly.”

5

Same suite, separate rooms.

Gina let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and glanced at Alejandro through the connecting door between the rooms. He’d left it open after ushering her through to her room. He moved around his room with an easy fluidity, as sure of himself in the confines of one of the nicest suites that the fanciest hotel in La Paz had to offer as he was on the training field with his men. He stood half facing away from her, his strong profile highlighted by the radiant hues of the setting sun shining through the balcony windows.

As she watched, fascinated and immobile, he reached up to tug the buttons of his shirt loose starting at his strong throat and finishing just below mid-chest letting his shirt gape open over his broad muscles. He placed those long fingers and strong hands at his narrow hips and stood solid, unmoving. She took a quick breath, trying to keep it as quiet as possible, but still needing to fill her lungs with air before she fainted from holding it for too long. He turned toward her anyway, though he couldn’t possibly have heard her inhale. The piercing look he gave her with those dark eyes shot a quiver of heat right through her body. She shivered and fisted her hands at her side, hiding them in the folds of her skirt so he couldn’t see what he was doing to her.

She wanted to go to him. As she’d wanted to a hundred times before; no, a thousand. More. She wanted to put her hands on him, run them over the muscles that she’d seen working out dozens of times with his men. Touch the shoulders that carried the burden of his king’s empire and place her palms against his, touch her heat to his, because she knew now that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. The thought stole her breath. But now was not the right time.

Separate rooms.

Though he hadn’t said a word when he’d opened the separating door and ushered her through the suite, she’d known as clear as if she could read his thoughts. He wouldn’t make love to her until she was his wife. The thought was both exhilarating and frightening. Alejandro was a conqueror. Reyes had seen it the first moment he set eyes on the man, which was why he’d hired him at any cost to stand at his side while he captured Bolivia and the surrounding borders.

Gina was about to become his next conquest. She could see it in the flash of his dark eyes, the set of his jaw and the promise of his every command as it led them to this moment.

A knock on the outside door of her suite startled her and broke their silent communication. Gina turned and took a step toward it, but stopped when Alejandro commanded sharply, “Stop, don’t move.”

Gina halted immediately, knowing better than to question his edicts. He moved swiftly toward her, pulling a gun from the holster under his arm. She was so used to seeing him and all the men around her armed that the movement didn’t phase her at all. She knew it was protocol and the likelihood of anyone unexpected knocking at her door was slim to none. They had men in the hallway acting as their protection.

Alejandro reached for her, wrapping his long fingers around her upper arm and pulling her behind him. He gave her a look that clearly said “stay” without actual words and went to answer the door. He placed her so she was standing completely out of the line of fire if anyone hostile was to enter the room.

“Si? Identify yourself,” he demanded at the door.

Gina didn’t hear the answer, but it must have been okay because he opened the door and indicated the person should come in. She watched curiously as a man and a woman entered the suite. The woman came in first holding two cases stacked on top of each other. Both were silver with gold trimming. She set them down on top of the courtesy desk, glanced at Gina and looked lingeringly at Alejandro. Gina hid a smile. She didn’t blame the lovely Latina woman for looking her fill. Alejandro was definitely something else. He was indeed beautiful to look at, and he was taller and broader than most of the men around them. Even more than that though, he carried himself with an enigmatic intensity that drew people to him almost as much as it repelled them when they realized that intensity was steeped in blood and death.

But for Gina, a woman born to the mob, everything about Alejandro drew her with a magnetic attraction that she was helpless to resist. And now, she knew, he was just as powerless as she. Which shifted the balance of power from the lion to the mouse.

She snapped her fingers against her skirt, making a slight but noticeable noise. Both Alejandro and the woman looked toward her. Gina gave the woman a stormy narrow-eyed look that told her everything. She could appreciate her fascination with the mob enforcer, but she was not to touch. Without another glance Gina turned her gaze toward the man who was holding several garment bags. He made his way toward the walk-in closet and began hanging them one at a time. Gina automatically tried to follow him in, knowing the items in the bags were meant for her.

Alejandro caught her arm and held her back. “Wait for him to finish, cariña.”

“But I want to see,” she murmured, tugging on her arm and craning her head to see around the edge of the closet door.

Alejandro pulled her back and gave her a look. “Gina,” he said in a low voice.

She looked up at him and decided her best bet was to wait until the wardrobe guy was finished. She knew Alejandro wouldn’t hurt her. But she also knew if she pushed her luck and got too close to the other man Alejandro wouldn’t hesitate to take him out. As she looked up at him, their gazes tangled, her breath caught in her throat. Elation flooded her body. Alejandro had finally declared his intentions; he’d drawn his line in the sand.

And she’d stepped up to that line, then redrawn one of her own.

Neither of them acknowledged the hotel staff as they finished, murmured their goodbyes and left. Instead, they stood locked in the moment, staring at each other as though it were the first time.

Alejandro brought a hand up and traced two long fingers across her jawline. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. He touched her mouth. “I’ve wanted to bite these lips from the first moment I saw them.” Not kiss, but something more brutal, barbaric. Like him. Her heart leapt in victory.

“Then bite them,” she whispered against his fingers.

He growled low in his throat and reached out to wrap his other arm around her waist and jerk her forward, slamming her hard against his body. She brought her hands up between them, not for space, but to brace herself against the sheer aggression pouring off of him. His fingers dug into the softness just below her ribcage.

“If I kiss you I won’t stop,” he rumbled dropping his head until his forehead touched hers. “I’ll bite, kiss, touch and fuck every part of you. I won’t be denied any longer, Gina.”

Her chest ached from the need to suck air into her starved lungs. He was killing her with his words, both spoken and unspoken. A year! An entire year of dancing around each other had finally led to this. And god, it was almost bittersweet. She loved this moment, she didn’t want it to end. She wanted to beg him to fuck her but knew she couldn’t. Shouldn’t. They would wait for their wedding.

“You will stop,” she whispered back, her breath feathering across his throat. She saw the shiver of tiny goosebumps where the air touched him. She felt the stiffness of his frame where he held the savage back from tearing her apart. She knew. Because she knew her Alejandro. She’d spent a year learning everything she could about him.

“I will?” he asked, a dangerous edge to his tone.

“You will,” she said with confidence and tilted her head to look up at him, searching the darkness of his features for the truth in her words. “You’ll kiss me with the feelings I know you have for me and then you’ll let me go and tell me what you have planned for tonight.”

His eyes narrowed. She waited, her heart pounding. She’d never given him an order before. He was used to his sweet little mouse simply nodding her head in agreement, smiling pretty and maintaining her silence. They would have to find new footing if he wanted her to become his bride. She just hoped she survived the experience.

He didn’t wait for another invitation. He swooped, his lips covering hers in a kiss that could only be called devastating. It was indeed a bite. Not a nip or a pinch but the soul-searing, devouring seizing of her mouth. He swept in, his lips warm, his tongue scorching and he took over, stealing every bit of her breath and sanity on a single kiss that lasted mere seconds but punched a hole in her sanity. He finished by biting all along her bottom lip until she was moaning in his arms and tilting her head back so he could kiss a path along her cheek to her ear.

“If I put you on that bed right now and fucked you, you wouldn’t stop me,” he growled against her throat.

She blinked, annoyance flashing through her grey eyes. She shoved a hand between them and stiffened her legs, which had gone weak under the intensity of his kisses. “Maybe,” she agreed huskily. “But my answer to your proposal, if you get around to asking, would be a lot less positive than it was a few minutes ago.”

She found herself set quickly back on her feet, his hands falling away from her as he put distance between them. Rather than relief she felt disappointment when cool air touched her skin. She told herself it was because it had been years since she’d felt the touch of a man. It was no wonder her body craved such hedonism. Yet, she knew better. Alejandro was not just a man. He was the man for her.

“Tread carefully, mi amor,” he said and though his voice was light, his eyes spoke volumes of the dark, delicious torments he would like to enact once he got his hands on her. “This reprieve is self-imposed and will not last. As you know, I am not a moralistic man. Waiting until after we are married… it is a gift for you alone, cariña. Out of respect.”

Sudden tears filled her eyes and she turned away so he wouldn’t see them. She didn’t need him to know that she was vulnerable. But it touched her that he would care enough about her feelings to give her time, even just a day or two, to adjust to the idea of marriage to him. She tilted her head down, her blond hair falling in a sheet around her face.

“Gracias, Alejandro,” she thanked him softly.

At first, he said nothing. She could feel his eyes on her. Then, “You are very welcome, Gina.” His deep voice took on an edge of command as he strode to the closet and turned on a light in the rapidly fading daylight. “There are several dresses in here. You will choose one to wear this evening. There should be shoes and purses to match in the boxes. I will collect you in an hour.”

He turned and strode to their connecting doors without another word, closing it firmly behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Gina reached for the bed, her knees folding and her body collapsing weakly beneath her. She fell back on the fluffy blanket with a sigh, her hair flaring out and her arms falling to her sides. She closed her eyes. “Dear god…” she whispered and traced shaking fingers over slightly swollen lips. “That was… incredible.”

She couldn’t help the grin that slowly lit up her face. She rolled onto her side and hugged herself tightly for a moment before reaching for the phone. As soon as her fingers landed, she hesitated and chewed on her bottom lip. It was an easy bet that Alejandro would know if she made a call as soon as she dialed out. And moments later he would know exactly who she was calling. She could use her cell phone. Thanks to a permanent satellite, their valley home was able to send and receive calls any time.

But did she really want Alejandro to know that she was discussing their business? He was smart enough to guess that she would call her cousin for a good gossip session. They told each other everything, whether the men liked it or not. Reyes had learned to live with it, would Alejandro? Or would he create yet another stupid rule and forbid her from talking to her cousin. At least until the dust had settled on their new marriage. It seemed like something the controlling enforcer might do, especially if Casey decided to get overly involved.

Gina dropped her hand and sat up on the side of the bed straightening her shoulders. No, now wasn’t the time. She and Alejandro had some things to sort through and Casey had a tendency to voice her opinions quite stridently when family or friends were involved. They would talk when Gina got back to the compound… when she was safely married to Alejandro.

6

In the hour since he’d left Gina to prepare for their evening out darkness had fallen and the city of La Paz was beginning to come alive. Alejandro stood on the balcony of his hotel suite leaning against the railing and watching the street five stories below as lamps twinkled to life and people waved down their rides to wherever they were going; restaurants perhaps, clubs, bars, wherever the evening took them.

He squinted against the pungent smoke of his cigar, inhaled and then tapped it against the railing, watching disinterestedly as the ash drifted lazily. He wondered if this particular habit bothered Gina. He’d tried quitting many times. It never worked for long and his men always bore the brunt of his bad temper with each attempt. He shook his head and smiled sardonically. If the lovely blond asked, he’d quit in a heartbeat and he had no doubt he’d be successful this time. He took another quick puff before knocking the cherry off on the iron railing and tossing what was left of the cigar in a nearby ashtray. He’d finish later, a last smoke before bed.

He heard the moment she turned the knob on the door between their adjoining rooms, the soft sounds of her heels against the carpet as she slipped through and then closed the door behind her. He waited, tension running up and down his back, the predator in him screaming to turn around and pounce. He didn’t. It wasn’t easy to keep his back on a room with another human being in it. It went against every instinct, every training he had. But this woman would become his wife; his everything. She would have his trust.

He felt her approach his back and stop within inches of him. So close he could almost feel her soft breath against his neck. Once more he was surprised by her. In a year of knowing Gina she hadn’t often surprised him. Yet over and over she’d managed to unbalance him since he’d declared his intentions. He’d expected emotions ranging from resistance to tears, begging, pleading, fear. Perhaps even quiet acquiescence as the best-case scenario; after all, Gina was his sweet little mouse. He had not expected assertive, demanding, annoyed and angry. All emotions she’d thrown at him from the moment he’d forced her back on the helicopter.

Alejandro didn’t like surprises. He killed surprises and then sorted them out later. Yet, there was something about these new facets of Gina that he was enjoying. Which is why he hadn’t shut her down with a few decisive words and actions. He didn’t want to start off his marriage with a wife who was terrified of him. So, he would practice patience and see where Gina was leading him.

“I love the way you smell,” she said, her voice just above a husky whisper but still low enough that he could barely hear her over the noise from the street below.

He lifted an amused brow, straightened to his full height and turned to look at her. She backed up quickly, covering her mouth in embarrassment, her face flushing a beautiful shade of pink. He slashed a quick grin and reached for her before she could get away from him. He swung her into his arms and dipped his face into the curve of her neck where the graceful column met her shoulder. Inhaling deeply, he murmured, “You smell like heaven yourself, mi amor.” He sniffed again and then licked her skin enjoying the shiver that swept her body and made her legs quiver. “Like an angel, you smell like baby powder and flowers.”

He lifted his head in time to catch the soft, pleased smile that lit her face. It made his chest ache. He pushed her away a little, knowing if he continued to touch her, kiss her, he would end up throwing her on the bed and fucking her instead of wooing her the way he’d planned, the way she deserved.

“Come Gina, we have reservations at Gustu.”

“Really? We get to eat at Gustu?” she asked, excitedly matching his strides as he took her hand and pulled her along beside him.

“Si,” he smiled indulgently and lifted her hand to his lips. “We have reservations.”

He guided her into the hall after checking for clearance and led her toward the bank of elevators, his men falling into step around them. Now that they were in the brightly lit hall and Gina was at his side instead of wrapped tight in his arms, Alejandro allowed his gaze to caress her figure, running his eyes over each sleek curve as she moved.

He stopped abruptly, pulling her to a halt beside him. “What the fuck are you wearing?” he growled.

She glanced down at herself. “You don’t like it?” she asked, confusion in her voice. “I thought you picked the dresses.”

“Gina, you look stunning, motherfucking caliente,” he snarled, startling her and earning a sharp look from Fredo, one of the more senior men. He tried to soften his voice. “But I can assure you, cariña, I would not pick a dress like this for you to wear in public.” He swept her with another look and lifted a hand to encompass the length of her body, which was draped in a shimmering black and silver halter dress that clung provocatively to every generous curve of her body. The plunging halter showed exactly how gifted she was in the cleavage department and the high split in the side of the bias-cut skirt revealed her thigh nearly to her hip. “Is there nothing more conservative you can change into?” he asked as gently as he could.

He knew he missed the mark when tears filled her cloudy grey eyes and she crossed her arms protectively across her chest. “Yes,” she snapped and then gulped back a tiny catch in her voice. “I can change back into the dress I wore here. It was plenty conservative. Those other dresses are even worse than this one.” She turned her face away and looked as though she wanted to bolt back to the room.

He’d fucked up.

He turned his head and barked at Fredo, “Take the stairs.”

“But…” Fredo replied, his brows lowering. Reyes would have Fredo’s head if he allowed Alejandro and Gina out of his sight while the couple were in public. But an order from Alejandro was as good as an order from the boss.

“Now,” Alejandro snarled.

“Right,” Fredo agreed and jerked his head toward the stairs, telling his men wordlessly to follow.

Alejandro took Gina’s arm and punched the button for the elevator. They stood in tense silent until it arrived. As soon as the doors opened, he swept her inside, hit the button for the lobby and pulled Gina into his arms. He wrapped one arm around her neck, pushing his chest against hers and tilting her head back so he could access her lips as they parted in surprise. He groaned at the feel of her silky soft curls that spilled over his wrist and hand.

“You are so fucking gorgeous, Gina. You’re always beautiful, but tonight you are more than I could have hoped for. You are my bride,” he told her. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I just can’t abide the touch of another man’s eyes on your skin. It belongs to me, all of it, every single inch. Mine.”

He lowered his head to hers and kissed her, soft at first but then with growing urgency as her lips parted eagerly beneath his and her arms circled his waist. He pushed her back against the wall and slid his hand into her hair, tangling his fingers against her scalp and tilting her head so he could access her mouth more deeply. He thrust his tongue deep, swallowing her gasp and then taking each moan and shiver she quickly offered. He growled and pressed hard against her, stealing her breath, her space, everything she had when she tugged him closer and offered herself with abandon.

He forced himself to release her lips, trailing kisses along her cheek and hairline before straightening. He pulled her up against his side and watched with satisfaction as she ran shaking hands down her skirt and up her halter to ensure everything was in place. She shook her hair back from her face and smoothed a hand over her thick riotous curls.

“Do you forgive me?” he asked as the elevator arrived in the lobby.

“Forgive you?” she asked breathlessly when they stepped off into the path of Fredo and his men. They must have hurtled down the stairs to arrive first.

“Forgive me for not telling you exactly how beautiful you look in that dress the moment I saw you, mi amor,” he explained. “My tardiness was unforgiveable.”

She tucked her hand against the elbow of his jacket. “I’ll forgive you this time since you’re taking me to my favourite restaurant. But don’t let it happen again, Alejandro.”

“Ah, you have made me a very happy man,” he told her, picking up her hand from his arm and bringing her fingers to his lips.

She smiled shyly at him and followed him out into the cool mountain evening where he helped her into the back of one their vehicles. The restaurant was easily one of the best Bolivia had to offer. Alejandro enjoyed the way Gina’s eyes lit up as he escorted her from the car, up the concrete steps and into the building, modern and rustic elements twining together in perfect balance. It occurred to him, as he was unable to tear his eyes from her while they were being led to their table, that Reyes had made a good decision in sending men with the couple. Though there was no question about Alejandro’s ability to defend himself, he was undeniably distracted.

He nodded at the hostess when she smiled deferentially and took them to a private corner next to a large window that faced the night-shrouded mountains and the glittering valley of La Paz. Gina’s gasp of appreciation and quick grin told him he’d chosen well. He slipped a bill into the hostess’s hand before waving her away and seating Gina himself, making sure her view of the valley was unobstructed.

“This is incredible,” Gina said excitedly after they were both sitting.

He nodded, watching her animated features, tracing the slight flush of her cheeks with his eyes. He’d always thought Gina lovely, but tonight she was more. She was radiant. Perhaps because she was about to become his? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care, he was beyond questioning the pull she had on him.

“I want to make you happy, Gina,” he told her, his voice dropping in volume. Though their corner was private he didn’t need his men, who were seated in twos at two separate tables flanking theirs, to hear any part of their conversation. This weekend was private, between him and his new bride.

She nodded happily, distracted, still looking around. Alejandro leaned forward and captured her hand pulling it across the table toward him. He gave it a squeeze, feeling the fine bones beneath the skin. So small, so fragile compared to him.

“You need to listen for a moment, mi amor,” he told her, his tone serious.

Her eyelashes fluttered and she focused on him, tilting her head a little. Her blond hair spilled across one bare shoulder in a shiny fall drawing his gaze toward her cleavage, reminding him that she was bared to the eyes of others. He shifted in his seat and swallowed his annoyance. This evening was about Gina and himself; it was about establishing their future, their relationship.

“I’m listening, Alejandro,” she said softly.

A slight shiver rocked his frame at the way those gorgeous lips shaped his name. Blatantly sexual images flashed through his brain. Gina on her knees in front of him, her lips wrapped tightly around his cock, those sweet grey eyes turned up to him as she willingly took him into her mouth and throat, licking, sucking, worshipping. Fuck. He nearly groaned out loud and had to shift in his seat to find a more comfortable position.

He squeezed her hand again and closed his eyes in an attempt to remember what he’d planned on saying. He replaced the sex with blood and violence. His job, his life. Her life with him. He hardened his heart and opened his eyes. “I am in love with you, Gina,” he said matter-of-factly, ignoring the tiny gasp that escaped her lips. “But you need to know that I will not always make you happy. I’m sure there will be times in our marriage that my actions will make you very unhappy. And you will have to learn to live with that. Because once my ring is on your finger, I won’t let you go.”

He watched, still holding her hand in his, feeling a slight tremor run down her arm and through her fingers as she struggled to process his words. He noted the rapidly beating pulse in her throat and the paleness of her features as the blood drained from her cheeks. He hadn’t planned on frightening her, hadn’t wanted to cast an unpleasant shadow over their evening, but he needed truth between them on the eve of their wedding.

She lifted stormy eyes to his and said, her voice strong, “I understand, Alejandro. I also understand that you still haven’t asked me to marry you. So, as far as I’m concerned there is no marriage or ring until I’ve said yes.”

He stared at her, his mouse turned vixen in the space of a day. He could see anxiety beginning to replace her bravado as she worried that he might smash her tart words under his usual dominance. For some reason, he wanted her to feel comfortable in saying what she wanted to him, so he gave her hand a squeeze, grinned and replied, “Give me time, cariña. Now pick up your menu and tell me what will make my love happiest to eat.”

She melted into her seat, picked up her menu and smiled sweetly as she chose first an appetizer, then a main course. Alejandro watched her every move, the predator purring in satisfaction. He was making his bride happy. A necessary evil since he had no intention of ever letting her go. Whether she rejected his ring or not, it was going on her finger and she was going home with him.

7

9 months earlier

Gina knew she shouldn’t be outside at that time of night. It was one of Alejandro’s many rules. The women, especially family, were never to walk alone after dark. But damn it, she needed air. She was used to independence. After Sosa had helped her escape from America, ensuring she wasn’t caught up in the senseless slaughter of her’s and Casey’s entire family, he’d placed her in his country home in Venezuela. But she’d mourned terribly for her family; her dead parents, her beloved older brother, missing and murdered. Beckett had been only a few years older than her, protective and loving, set to take over the family business, killed in his prime. When Gina couldn’t find happiness in Venezuela, Sosa moved her to London where he had connections and she could easily disappear in the massive metropolitan centre. In Britain she’d grown up, grown independent and learned to relax and enjoy life.

Upon learning that her cousin was alive and thriving, Gina had returned to South America. She put on a happy face and was now doing her best to match her heart to her face. It wasn’t always easy. She missed her London life and friends. She rarely talked to Casey about the life she’d left behind, but in the decade since she’d escaped the massacre she had gone to college, earned a degree in business and joined a consulting company. It wasn’t her dream job. Gina actually had no idea what her dream job was, but earning a wage, making her own way had given her a sense of accomplishment. Especially after the life she’d left behind.

Now she was back. Returned to the beast. Mafia. She was part of la familia and there would be no escaping a second time. Thus, her need for a nighttime walk. Because sometimes being the quiet little mouse that never made a fuss became unbearable and she needed to leave her stifling room in the stifling mansion and just breathe. If she didn’t, she might go mad and try to run away. Such an action would constitute a betrayal of the family, a thought that didn’t bear considering. Besides, she truly did love Casey. She had no real desire to leave. Most of the time.

She made her way down the familiar unlit path toward an unmarked building. She didn’t know what it was for, she just knew that there were no exterior lights to give away her nocturnal activities. She’d taken this walk many times in the past months when the need to get away from the house, out into the air, had overwhelmed her. When panic pressed down on her chest and she’d felt as though she couldn’t breathe. When her empty bedroom pressed in on her, though it was as big as any in the mansion, beautifully furnished, with all the amenities a woman could ask for.

She trailed her fingers across a scrub bush, her lips quirking a little. She preferred this building. It was stark and honest. It felt like it belonged to the compound. Unlike the beautiful mansion surrounded by carefully manicured trees and bushes that weren’t native to the region, this building was adorned with tiny, barely surviving bushes, all natural to the Altiplano. They were like Gina and Casey; surviving casualties of a war. Only this war was with mother nature instead of the Mexican cartel.

A door banged open around the corner of the building and light flooded the area next to Gina, chasing off the shadows. She pressed a hand against her mouth to stifle the cry that threatened to escape and pressed herself back against the cold concrete slabs of the wall. Her heart hammered in her chest. She heard the click and flare of a lighter and then moments later the familiar scent of a cigar.

Without warning a massive shadow swooped in front of her and a voice growled, “Ah, so it is you creeping around out here, little mouse.”

A small scream erupted from her lips and she tried to jump sideways to escape him, but he grabbed her arm and hauled her back, pushing her against the building. She calmed slightly when she realized it was Alejandro. She should have known. The scent of his cigar was achingly familiar by now. He held her tight and lifted a hand to her face, the one with the cigar held loosely between his fingers. He touched her jaw, tilting her face up to his and studied her closely. She knew the light fell across her so he could see every fleeting emotion, while she could not clearly see his face in the darkness.

He held her that way for a long, uncomfortable moment. Her breathing was ragged, her chest lifting and dropping in jerky, uneven movements. She thought she saw the flash of his eyes dip down but couldn’t be certain in the dark. Fear of his retaliation because she’d broken his rule about walking after dark extinguished any possible arousal she might have felt. Though she found Alejandro extremely attractive, he was far too overbearing and intimidating for her to contemplate him more than fleetingly. He was for nighttime fantasies, not for considering an actual relationship with.

Finally, he lifted the cigar to his mouth, clamped it between his teeth and jerked her away from the wall. Without a word he walked her rapidly back up to the house, through the side door where she’d come from and up the curving staircase to her room. When they arrived he dropped his hand from her arm. Though she was wearing a heavy sweater and a coat to protect her from the cold mountain air she still felt somehow bereft. Confused, she stepped quickly away and reached for the door.

He put a hand out, stopping her. She looked up at him, knowing exactly what he was going to say. “No more walks, Gina.”

Though his voice was low, without inflection, she knew she was getting off easy. Alejandro was an enforcer. He didn’t repeat himself. Ever. Yet he was repeating this rule to her even though she’d broken it repeatedly. And looking up into his blank, ruggedly handsome face, she suddenly realized that he probably knew each and every time she left the mansion. He’d allowed her nighttime walks for some reason. But now he was ending them.

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode away, leaving her to enter her room alone. She watched his long, muscular frame until it disappeared and then pushed her door open and escaped into the sanctuary of her room. She knew that this time he expected her compliance. This time there would be consequences if she defied him. She didn’t know what they would be, and she suspected she didn’t want to find out.

Gina turned the lamp on next to her bed and glanced in the standing mirror before moving away to remove her clothes and get ready for bed. She frowned and turned back to the mirror seeing a shadow on her chin. Approaching the mirror slowly she tilted her face up toward the glass and touched the shadowy marks. She looked down at her fingers with a frown when she realized they were wet. She whimpered as horror suffused her. She knew exactly what was on her face. Blood-soaked fingerprints.

Alejandro had left them there on purpose. A warning about little girls wandering around the dark by themselves. It hit Gina then what that unmarked plain building was used for. And she knew that she would follow Alejandro’s rule, she would never willingly go back there again.

8

Present day

Gina didn’t need Alejandro’s warning. She knew that their marriage wouldn’t always be happy. She’d known from the moment she admitted to herself that she was in love with the mobster, the day after he’d caught her walking alone in the dark. She’d gone to bed and cried herself to sleep as she’d acknowledged the course her life would take if she gave into her feelings for Alejandro. When she’d woken she’d given herself permission to embrace that world and that was when she’d become truly happy with life in Bolivia.

“Gina.”

She looked up, startled and blinked into Alejandro’s sinister handsome face as he leaned into the open car door. She accepted the hand he offered, slid from the car and into his loose embrace. His men quickly surrounded the couple and escorted them into La Paz’s hottest night club. Gina wasn’t the type to truly enjoy the club scene and wondered why he would bring her here. So far, Alejandro had hit the mark with each and every one of her preferences. It seemed odd, knowing Gina preferred solitude and quiet, that he would bring her to a noisy, busy hotspot. However, she trusted Alejandro, he would have his reasons.

He led her past a lineup and several bouncers without stopping. She wasn’t surprised. Alejandro was well known in La Paz. Even if his men hadn’t sent word ahead of their arrival, his presence alone would ensure their swift inclusion. Alejandro led her through the open door and without pausing, turned and made a path for them toward a VIP section. Gina was grateful that they would get their own seating area and when they arrived she sat quickly on one of the sofas.

Alejandro ordered drinks for them and had a quick conversation with Fredo, gesturing rapidly. She supposed he was telling the men where they should stand for optimal security. Her lips twitched up. After all, he was the best when it came to security. It was like a head chef leaving his own meal planning up to a subordinate. Somewhat impossible.

The noise was beginning to get to Gina so when Alejandro turned back to her, she unthinkingly reached for his hand and tugged him gently, indicating she wanted him to sit next to her. She blushed at her own audacity but retained her hold on his hand. He glanced around again and then sat next to her, close enough that his long thigh pressed full length against hers. She sighed happily and snuggled into his side.

She tilted her head and looked at him curiously.

“You’re wondering why I brought you here,” he said, some amusement in his voice since the question was probably written all over her expressive face.

She laughed and nodded. “Yes, this isn’t really…”

“Your thing,” he finished. “You’ll see, mi amor. Don’t worry, we won’t stay long. I just want you to be seen with me. After tonight, there will be no question who you belong to.”

Gina stared up at him. She didn’t quite know how to respond. His possessiveness seemed out of character considering he had an entire year to lay claim to her yet hadn’t bothered until she went on a date with another man. Yet, Alejandro was more carefully controlled than that. He didn’t let his temper make decisions for him, which meant he’d planned this weekend despite her date. Was her trip to La Paz with Miguel simply coincidence?

A waiter stopped by the table after showing identification to one of the men and set a couple of drinks down. Gina immediately reached for the glass of red wine Alejandro had ordered for her, but he intercepted her, taking the glass from her hand. She frowned and watched with curiosity while he took a quick gulp. After a moment he nodded and handed the drink back to her. She took it with trembling hands and downed a large sip.

Alejandro studied her with his usual intensity. She dropped her eyes and continued to sip her wine, taking in the warmth as it flooded her veins. He ran his fingers across her shoulder and down her back where the halter bared her skin for his touch. He wrapped his hand around her curls and tugged a little drawing her attention back to his dark gaze.

“You know the origins or the Argentinian tango, cariña?” he asked, his deep voice caressing.

Gina gaped at him and almost spilled her wine in her lap. Did he know? Her eyes flew to his. Yes, of course he knew. The twinkle in those velvety depths told her he probably knew from the inception of her and Casey’s goofy idea. She closed her eyes and placed the palm of her free hand over her eyes. She shook her head and said, “I have no idea.”

He smiled and tugged her hand away from her face, wrapping his long, brown fingers around her wrist and holding her captive while he spoke. “Of course, you already know the dance is about heat and passion. But you may not know it is about the relationship between a poor man and a fallen woman. He falls in love with her, but she betrays him, leaves him for a rich man. The poor man finds her and takes his revenge by killing her. This is the symbolism at the end of the dance. When she falls to the floor, she dies at his feet.”

Gina stared at him, at the grim seriousness of his face as time seemed to stop between them. Another warning like the one he’d given her at the restaurant. She was not to leave him; she was not to betray him. Tilting her wine toward her mouth she downed the last of the rich liquid in one long drink then she stood, enjoying the feel of her sleek dress caressing her legs as it slid into place. She set the wine glass on the table beside her and tipped her head down to look at Alejandro with narrowed eyes.

He reached for her, wrapping long fingers around her waist. “You understand, Gina?”

She ignored his question. Instead, she asked, “You know what Casey and I’ve been up to?”

The two women had decided to teach themselves different dances over the long months of isolation at the compound. Their favourite had been the tango; a beautiful, passionate and difficult dance. They had taken turns in the leading and following roles, learning all the steps, sometimes serious, sometimes erupting into hysterical fits of laughter. Though they probably should have realized they’d been discovered, they thought their activities were secret, their only audience a baby that couldn’t tell on them yet.

He nodded, a slight smile twitching up the edges of his lips. Gina held out a hand and arched an eyebrow in query. “We’ve been dancing around each other for a year, Alejandro. Don’t you think it’s time we do this for real or don’t you dance?” she challenged, fully expecting him to deny her request and take her away from the club.

She should’ve known her man better than that. He let out a growl and took her wrist in an unbreakable hold. Standing up, he towered over her and wrapped an arm around her back, crowding her, refusing to allow her to back up. He leaned down and spoke in her ear, his warm breath feathering across her skin, “Just remember, cariña, where I lead you will follow.”

He led her out of the VIP area and down the steps, stopping only briefly to speak with Fredo. Then he took her to the edge of the dance floor where they stood waiting. Her heart pounded in her chest. She suddenly realized she’d made a colossal mistake. They were about to dance. In front of people. People that would watch them. She’d only ever danced in front of and with her cousin. This was so very different it was grossly not funny!

She turned panicked eyes up to Alejandro. He smiled down at her and winked, leaning down to her. “You will see, feel and hear only me, si? My heart is the beat of the music in your ear. You remember and you will be fine, mi amor. I will not let you fall, not now, not ever.”

Her lips parted slightly in surprise as she took his words in. “When did you become so romantic?”

He laughed out loud, his voice booming out as the music fell away and staff were urging people off the dance floor. Silence descended over the room and the crowd turned to watch as Alejandro took her hand and led her to the middle of the dance floor. A shaft of fright ran through her as the watchful faces came into focus, but then Alejandro stepped in front of her and captured her attention, forcing her to focus on him once more. The lights dimmed around them until there were only a few left spotlighting the glossy black dance area. The crowd faded away until there was only Alejandro and Gina.

She watched him through lowered lashes as he circled her slowly and then stopped in front of her not touching physically but holding her enthralled with the warmth of his gaze, his domination, his determination and his love. The music started, and she immediately recognized Goten Project’s popular Santa Maria from La Revancha del Tango. She stepped around Alejandro and gave him her hand indicating she was allowing the dance to proceed. He whirled her into his arms and proved to her quickly that he knew exactly what he was doing. That hands soaked in blood were equally capable of caressing and dominating a woman in dance.

Within moments, exhilaration replaced trepidation as they flew across the floor together. Gina had no time to worry about counting steps as she followed Alejandro’s every step, snapping into place beside and in front of him as he led their dance. She kicked her leg over his and then back over, twirling away from him and then gasping when he gripped her hard and turned her back against him, pressing their chests intimately together. As the music neared the final notes, she felt the tension in his body increase. She knew exactly why – he would have to allow her to fall. The symbolic death.

As she whirled against his strong arm preparing to sink to the floor, he caught her instead, pressing her close. Rather than allowing her to drop to the floor at his feet he tipped her far back against his arm until she was nearly prone against his chest. Her legs were draped over top of his strong thigh and the tips of her hair brushed the dance floor at her back. He leaned forward, the muscles of his arms bulging against his shirt. He was so close to her that when he spoke his lips touched hers, “I will never allow you to fall, Gina, mi amor.”

The breath caught in her throat and tears threatened to spill as the final notes of music died away. Applause sounded around them. She knew they were good, very good for an amateur couple that had never before danced together. What they might have lacked in skill they more than made up for in passion. She flexed her fingers against him and smiled happily.

“I will do my best to never let you fall either, Alejandro,” she replied shyly.

He looked surprised for a moment, as though the thought of a woman, especially one like Gina, protecting him never occurred to him before. Then he grinned down at her, pleased, and kissed her quick and hard before setting her on her feet once more. They took a quick bow and left the dance floor. Without another word they exited the club. Gina guessed they had made enough of an impression.

She was glad. She was exhausted from a long day of dates with multiple men and trying to stand up for her rights so as not to get dragged to the alter by the hair caveman-style. “What next?” she asked, smothering a yawn as Alejandro escorted her onto the sidewalk toward the waiting vehicle. Fredo had the back door open and waiting for them.

When Alejandro didn’t answer, Gina opened her mouth to ask again. He held his hand up and stopped walking, drawing her tight against his side. Then, without warning he flung her forward into the arms of one of their bodyguard’s. The man caught her and shoved her into the side of the vehicle, covering her with his body. She felt him shift to pull his weapon from the holster when loud pops erupted all around them.

Gina let out a cry when she was shoved roughly down, a hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the pavement. She reached out, halting a nasty scape to her knees by gripping the edge of the open door. She flinched when she felt something slam into the vehicle next to her and looked up to see Alejandro throw himself against the metal panel to use it for cover as he squeezed off a few shots over the roof of the SUV. Someone was driving by and shooting at them.

She heard the screech of tires and slamming metal. He must’ve hit the other car when he fired at it. She wasn’t surprised. She knew how accurate Alejandro was. She’d seen him on the range before.

“You take left, I’ll go right. Don’t let them pin us down,” he snapped at Fredo. “Try to take one of them alive if you can.” He glanced down at Gina where she was crouched on the sidewalk, terror clear on her face. His own gaze was dispassionate. This was Alejandro at work. His eyes moved to the man who still had a hand on top of Gina’s shoulder, holding her in place. “Put her in the back, cover her with your life.”

“Yes, boss,” he answered immediately.

Gina didn’t have a chance to say anything. Alejandro disappeared around the side of the darkly tinted SUV as she was dragged to her feet and pushed inside. She crawled to the opposite door and peeked through the window. A bullet slammed into the glass next to her face and ricocheted off. She screamed and lunged back.

Trying to steady her breathing and heartrate she sat up again and stared out the window looking around frantically for Alejandro. He was around the back of the SUV, his dark head bobbing in and out of her line of sight as he shot at the men emerging from the crashed Lexus across the street.

“You okay, Ms. Giancarro?” her bodyguard asked, shoving his head back through the door.

“Yes!” she yelled back. “Just startled.”

“Keep your head down, ma’am,” he shouted. “It’ll be over soon.”

She nodded and ducked against the leather seat, clutching the seatbelt against her, as though it could keep her safe. After a moment, when she heard nothing she glanced back up. She couldn’t see anything so she crawled closer to the window and took a good look. She gasped and covered her mouth. Alejandro was standing in the road, his tall form hulking over top of a prone body in the road. Rage suffused his features, an emotion unlike anything she’d seen on his face before. It filled Gina with awe. She knew it was because of her, because these men attacked him in public while she was with him.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw that her bodyguard had stepped away from the SUV. She clutched her purse tight and reached for the door handle, cracking it open. She could hear Alejandro’s low voice growling in fury. “… dare to attack me and my woman, you weak fuck. You will die slowly for this, pendejo. There will be no coming back from the hell I send you, puto motherfucker.” She peeked around the side of the door in time to see him spit on the man for emphasis.

Gina saw the other attacker a split second before Alejandro could spot him. She knew he was good at his job, knew that she should leave him alone to work. But she couldn’t. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to save the man she loved. She jammed her hand into her purse, pulled out the switchblade Casey insisted she carry everywhere and opened the door of the SUV. She screamed a warning as she ran at the man who was making his way stealthily toward Alejandro, his gun hand extended.

Alejandro twisted to the side, ducking the shot as it went wide while Gina jumped on the man’s back, sinking her tiny blade into his side. He screamed in pain, dropped his gun and flung her away from him. She flew sideways and hit the street hard, rolling before landing on her back. She came up on her elbows and looked around to find the man lunging toward her. Apparently, he knew his best bet at staying alive was to get his hands on the prize. She tried to scramble backwards but he was quickly on top of her, reaching down to grab her.

It didn’t matter, Alejandro came up behind him, yanked Gina’s blade from his side, pulled him against his chest and slammed the knife home in guy’s neck once, twice, three times. The attacker fell to his knees between Gina’s spread legs, blood pouring down his throat and chest. He flailed, one hand reaching for the wounds, trying to put pressure on them while the other continued to reach for Gina.

She watched in frozen horror as Alejandro gripped the man by the hair and held him upright, away from Gina but still close enough that she could watch every moment of his life drain from him. Alejandro watched her face as she stared at the scene before her, sobs spilling from her lips. He leaned forward until his lips were next to the dying man’s ear and he spoke clearly, his words travelling to Gina, “No one puts my woman in danger.”

His terrible, cold eyes held hers and she knew he was speaking directly to her. Another lesson. No one put Gina in danger, not even her. A shudder ripped through her and she forced herself to swallow a gag as he threw the now dead body away from them. Gina pulled her legs back so the man wouldn’t touch her as he fell to the pavement. Alejandro crouched next to Gina and gave her a quick once over.

“Are you hurt?” he asked coldly.

She shook her head sitting up and hugging herself against the chill of the night. She refused to look at him now, instead focusing dully on Fredo and his man as they collected the guy Alejandro had captured.

Alejandro stood and held a hand out for her. This time she felt none of the happiness or elation she’d felt earlier when she took it. As he helped her to her feet and escorted her to the car she knew she was truly in the hands of the mob. As though his prediction had come true much sooner than either of them could have thought; he’d made her unhappy. The man she loved was a monster. A monster that loved her back and would never let her go.

9

She was covered in blood. It had been his responsibility to make sure Gina was safe and happy and he couldn’t even manage to do that for a single evening in the city. She distracted him, a man well known for his ice-cold resolve, and there had been consequences. Now she was walking through the lobby of their fancy hotel, blood splattered across her chest, arms, dress and legs. He suspected she didn’t know or she might have freaked out in the car. Instead she’d remained silent on the ride back, sitting next to him in a numb haze as though waiting for her execution. He knew he’d been hard on her. Shouldn’t have killed the guy in front of her with such brutality. But fuck, he needed to show her that he could handle himself without her interference. She needed to obey his orders and stay safe for fuck’s sake.

The elevator arrived and wordlessly he pointed Fredo toward the stairs. He felt the tense vibes pouring off the other man. Fredo didn’t want them alone after that attack, not even for a second. He didn’t care. He wanted Gina to himself. He pushed her into the elevator and punched the button. The second the doors closed he punched the wall panel beside the door, enjoying the satisfying crunch and shatter of glass as it broke and hit the floor at their feet.

Finally, Gina came alive, letting out a terrified squeak and jumping back from him. He turned to her, grabbed her arm and pushed her against the same wall he’d kissed her against earlier. Only this time he wasn’t in the mood to kiss her. He wanted to slap her, to shake her, to wake her up and make her see sense.

He put a finger in her face and watched fear flare in those beautiful grey eyes. “The next time,” he said in a deadly quiet voice, “I give you a fucking order, you listen. You don’t listen to me, cariña? You don’t sit down for a month, you don’t leave the house for a year. Understand?”

She nodded quickly, her nose brushing his finger. Fat tears gathered in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. He touched one to his finger and put his finger in his mouth. The elevator stopped on their floor. He calmly placed a hand at her back and escorted her off the elevator and into their suite of rooms, ignoring his men who exited the stairwell and took their places along the hallway.

Without a word, Gina moved immediately toward the connecting door, reaching for the knob as though it were a lifeline.

“Gina.” She stopped but didn’t turn around. Her stiff shoulders spoke for her. “Leave the door open. I’ll be able to hear you in case you need anything. The ceremony is tomorrow at noon. Someone will be in your room at 9 to help you get ready.”

She stopped breathing for a moment, just stood frozen, her body a beautiful bloody statue. Then she nodded jerkily and thrust the door open, disappearing through it. She left the door open as he’d commanded but didn’t turn on a light. He could barely hear her shoes on the carpet as she moved around her room.

He decided the best thing for him to do was have a smoke, calm his nerves before he did something they would both regret. Like beat or fuck her into her into obedience. The blood lust and anger were still riding high in his system. He knew his annoyance with Gina was a symptom even if she deserved the lash of his tongue for the stunt she’d pulled. Still, he didn’t want to frighten her more than he already had. Though she’d proven she had spunk, she was still a soft woman with a soft heart.

He stalked toward the balcony, jerked the doors open and stepped into the cool night. It occurred to him that she must’ve been cold without a wrap or jacket, yet she hadn’t said a word. He would have to remember to take better care of her. After he lit the end of his half-smoked cigar, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and hit his employer’s contact.

Reyes picked up immediately. “Alejandro,” he growled. “I was expecting your call sooner.”

Alejandro blew out a stream of smoke and answered, “I needed to get the girl safely back to the hotel. Called as soon as I could.”

“She is safe?” Reyes snapped, annoyance clear in his voice. “My wife is beside herself with worry.”

“Si, though not for lack of trying on her part,” Alejandro said coldly.

Reyes grunted. “I heard. Didn’t think she had it in her. You’ll deal with the security breach?”

His lip curled in anticipation and he brought the cigar to his mouth for another puff. “Si, mi amigo. The packages should arrive shortly. My younger friend will need to be taught to listen much better to orders. When I tell him to keep my woman safe in the car, he will need to know to listen in future. The other, the gang scum that dared to try for my life tonight and question your reign, is for your pleasure, mi Rey.”

“Excellent, I do enjoy a good example.”

“I thought you might.”

Reyes grunted and remained silent for a moment, then he said, “It’s probable that you have become the target of a hit. It has become common knowledge to both our friends and enemies that you are highly valuable to me, amigo.”

“Be still my heart,” Alejandro joked. Reyes almost never commended his men. Keeping them well paid and in good health was praise enough in his eyes.

Reyes ignored him. “I’m sending more guards. You will finish your business with the woman and come home until we sort this out. If it is a marriage you want, then get it done and come back to the valley where you will have safety.”

Alejandro frowned down toward the street, watching the passing cars. “You think a heavy is behind this, not just La Paz gang shit.” A statement, not a question. He was good at reading his boss.

Reyes was silent for a moment, thinking before he answered. “This job was sloppy but doesn’t feel like a random potshot at my authority. I am uncertain who could be behind it. And as you know, uncertainty makes me uneasy.”

And Reyes’ uneasiness usually ended in a sea of bloodshed until the mobster was satisfied any threat to his reign was neutralized. Alejandro grinned and tossed the stub of his cigar over the iron railing into the darkness. “I look forward to the challenge, boss.”

Reyes grunted something that sounded suspiciously like, ‘crazy fucking puto.’ Then he continued in a clear voice, “Just make damn sure my cousin doesn’t get caught in the crossfire, si? I’ve grown somewhat attached to the little nanny.”

“Every motherfucker that so much as thinks about my woman the wrong way will die a slow and agonizing death,” Alejandro snarled. “El Escorpion taught me well how to play with my food before dispatching them.”

He ended the conversation and straightened, breathing deep, taking the crisp night air into his lungs. It was different than the much more hot, humid jungle region in Venezuela where he’d grown up, became first a military commando and then a mercenary. It had taken him some time to grow attached to the Bolivian Andes, but now he gladly called this place home.

A sound caught his attention, a muffled cry. Knowing instinctively it was coming from Gina’s room, he pulled his gun and lunged toward the connecting door. He slammed his fist into the wall, hitting the light switch and ducking to the side so he wouldn’t become a target. She was nowhere in sight.

The sounds were coming from her washroom. He realized that they were the sounds of a woman’s muffled sobs, not someone being attacked. He put his gun back in the holster so he wouldn’t frighten her even more than he already had that evening and approached the lit, half-open door. At the sight that met him, his chest ached and for the first time in a very long he felt regret. He was at least partially responsible for this.

Gina was standing in the claw-foot tub fully clothed except for her shoes which lay discarded on the marble tiles, her arms held stiffly in front of her as though they didn’t belong to her. She was staring down at the blood, tears dripping down her face. She was shaking and sobbing, trying to catch her breath. Her lips were tinged in blue and her skin was alarmingly pale.

“Oh, cariña,” he said softly, “look at you.” Her head jerked a little, but she didn’t look up when he approached. Gently he reached for her and wrapped his arms around her, leaning her into his body. He ran his hands down her arms, warming her chilled skin. “Okay, baby, we’re going to wash you and warm you up. Understand?”

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t push him away either. He gently pulled her down with him, her inside the tub and he on the outside until she was sitting and he was kneeling next to her. She was shivering uncontrollably but her breathing was starting to even out. He suspected she was having a panic attack. He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes, taking in the dilated pupils.

“Just breathe, amor,” he urged brushing his thumb over her lips. He was worried about the blue in her skin. Though she didn’t respond to him verbally, she seemed to hear him as she took a long rattling breath.

“Good girl,” he praised her, reaching for the taps. She grabbed his arm and clung to him while he adjusted the flow of water and made sure it was warm enough without scorching her delicate skin.

She leaned against the side of the tub, laying her head against his shoulder while he used a cloth and some soap to gently wipe the blood from her. After a few moments he said, “I’m going to help you out of this dress, Gina.” When she stiffened, he assured her, “I will give you the highest respect, but you’ll feel better if we take this dress off and wash all the blood away. Okay, mi amor?”

“Yes, Alejandro,” she whispered, so quiet he barely caught the words. His heart leapt though. She was giving him her trust again. Even after seeing him murder someone right in front of her.

He lifted the curtain of hair away from her neck and unhooked the halter part of her dress. She quickly brought her hands up to catch the front as it fell while he dropped his fingers down her back to unzip the remaining part of her dress at the top of her perfect, curvy ass. He had to remind himself he was being a gentleman as the curves of those cheeks were revealed. Gently he tugged the front of the dress from her stiff fingers and urged her to kneel so he could peel the dress completely away. He tossed the sodden mass out of the tub and helped her to sit back once more.

Alejandro spent several minutes running the cloth over her body until she gradually relaxed and closed her eyes, her blond head resting against his shoulder. He dropped a kiss against the soft curls and inhaled the sweet, flowery fragrance. He hadn’t anticipated his first time seeing his bride’s naked body, touching each gorgeous curve and being unable to take her the way he’d planned. Yet, the moment, despite the events of the evening, was more perfect than he could have imagined.

“Alejandro?” she asked sleepily, her husky voice reaching out to wrap around his cock the way it did each time she said his name.

“Si, Gina?”

“How can you be so scary one moment and so sweet the next?” Her voice was both innocent and accusing.

Alejandro felt a shaft of hurt. But her question was not unfair. He was Reyes’ second-in-command. He was an enforcer, the monster that stalked the shadows of the underworld. It was his job to be scary. He wasn’t built for love. Yet love had found him anyway. He dropped his head and murmured against her, “I am only sweet for you, mi amor. No one else.”

She said nothing and when he looked he realized she was asleep. He turned the water off, wrapped a towel around her as best he could and lifted her from the tub, ignoring the water that streamed over him. He was as bloody as she had been anyway, his suit ruined. He strode with her to the bed, shifted the blankets back and tucked her inside, naked and damp. Then he dropped to his knees beside the bed, took her hand in his and leaned forward until he was almost touching her face.

“Gina, mi amor,” he murmured. “Will you be my wife?”

Her eyelashes fluttered, and she opened clear grey eyes to look at him. His heart nearly stopped as he waited for her answer.

“Yes, Alejandro.”

10

He didn’t knock, he just walked through the connecting door as though he had every right in the world to barge into her room without an invitation. She guessed he probably did have that right anyway. He was paying for the hotel room. His boss owned Bolivia, the underworld anyway. Which meant Reyes also owned the politicians, the resources, the drug trade, everything. And in a matter of moments Alejandro would own her.

But still…

“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” she told him, her voice slightly hoarse from her screams during the attack the evening before and her crying bout after.

She turned from the mirror to face him. It didn’t matter if he saw the entire dress now since he didn’t seem to care about tradition anyway. The makeup and hair woman had just left after helping Gina into the Vera Wang gown. It was truly stunning. A lovely white creation; simple but elegantly beautiful with a heart-shaped neckline that dipped into Gina’s generous cleavage, cupping and lifting her breasts. Tiny spaghetti straps curved her shoulders. The gown gathered at the waist with a ribbon and flowed over her hips, falling to the floor in a soft, classic skirt. Somehow, surprisingly, Alejandro or someone close to him had picked the perfect gown for her.

The hairdresser had left Gina’s blond curls to flow free bouncing around her bare shoulders, simply pinning them at the sides with sapphire and diamond encrusted barrettes. Her make-up was also soft and subtle in light pink and peach tones, as though the woman had been told to enhance Gina for her wedding day but keep her as close to natural as possible. She suspected Alejandro had given the order; it seemed his style.

He stood just inside the connecting door, his big, solid body stopped as though unable to take another step. He studied her, eyes narrowed. She could tell though, by the curve of his lips and the flex of his Adam’s apple that he liked what he saw. She smiled shyly and took a step forward, then she tripped on the long skirt, pitching forward. She hadn’t put the matching heels on yet. She reached out to catch herself but there was nothing to hold on to.

Awe, fuck, she thought as she fell. She really hoped she didn’t tear her wedding dress when she hit the carpet and then laughed at herself as she tried to collapse as delicately as possible without flailing like a baby deer trying to stand up for the first time.

She should have known though. Alejandro would never let her fall. His strong arms captured her before her body hit the carpet and she found herself swept up against him. She grinned happily and clutched the lapel of his tuxedo jacket, thinking this was the most romantic moment of her life. Then he took it to the next level. He set her back on her feet and reached for her shoes.

She quivered, her breasts heaving unevenly as her breath gasped in and out while he slid one large hand up under her dress to cup her calf. She wobbled a little after her first shoe went on, giggled and reached behind her to grab the bed post. He placed the other shoe on her foot and then slid his hand up to her knee, then her thigh, watching her face before slowly removing his hands.

Gina thought he would stand, but he continued to kneel at her feet and stare up at her. She looked down at him, her hair swirling between them, grey eyes meeting dark velvety brown. The moment became strangely intense until she could almost feel the air around them charge with electricity.

“I don’t deserve you, my Angelina,” he said, his voice deep and serious. She opened her mouth to deny his words, but he shook his head sharply. “No, don’t speak, my love. Just listen,” he instructed. “You may think you know me, but you only know what I’ve chosen to show you. There are parts of me you will never know, parts I will never allow you to see. For your protection. I don’t deserve you, but I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I’ve spent a year patiently waiting, determined to take you when I thought the time was right.”

She nodded, tears filling her eyes. Despite his insistence that she not speak, she did anyway. “I want you too, Alejandro,” she whispered, “more than anything. I loved you from the first moment I saw you. It just took me awhile to know my heart.”

He nodded and reached up to take her hand. “And I knew I loved you, cariña. From that moment you innocently asked me to find you a limited-edition Spiderman comic book with our next food shipment and I, like a lovesick fool, moved heaven and Earth to find the stupid thing. You had no idea how hard that fucking magazine was to find, mi amor, but I did it without complaint. Anyone else on the planet would have gotten shot for such a request on my time.”

She laughed and carefully wiped a tear from beneath her eyelid with a shaking finger. “I knew exactly how hard it would be for you to get your hands on that comic book. I also knew if anyone could do it, it would be you. You’ve sort of been my secret hero ever since you came through on that one.”

He smiled gently and rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. “One day with you, one glorious fucking day has taught me that I can’t just take you as I’d planned. I need you to walk by my side, as my partner. I will not be able to share everything, but I will always give you choices when I can, mi amor. You are life to me, you are everything. Will you be my wife?”

She choked on a sob and laughed at the same time. “Of course, I will,” she cried. When he stood and crushed her against his chest, hugging her tight she said, “But you already asked me last night.”

He chuckled and set her away from him. “You deserved a proper proposal, in the light of day when you weren’t exhausted and frightened.” He took her hand and tugged her toward the door. “Now let’s go do this. You’ve said yes twice, there’s no escape now, I want my bride and I want her now.”

Gina laughed and followed him, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. This was her wedding day and her groom was doing his best to make it absolutely perfect!

The ride to the church was uneventful though Gina noticed there was a lot more security than usual. She turned in her seat to look out the window at the SUVs flanking theirs and shivered, hoping the overkill on security would deter any more would-be attackers. As if sensing her trepidation, Alejandro, who’d insisted on riding with her despite the breach in tradition, took her hand in his and kissed the tips of her fingers.

“Do not worry, Gina,” he said in a low voice, his dark eyes commanding her to listen to him. “Only a fool would take on El Rey’s second on his wedding day. Especially with the fire power we have surrounding the church.” He ran the back of his hand down her curls, clearly enjoying the silken texture, then leaned closer to lightly brush his lips against hers. “You will enjoy this day, mi amor, it is the only one you will ever get.”

Though the words could be taken as threatening, his tone was not, so she smiled and nodded her head, leaning further into his kiss and adding pressure. She felt him stiffen and then he brought both hands up to cup her head and hold her still as he took over, deepening their kiss and stealing the breath from her throat. It didn’t take much. Whenever Alejandro was close Gina found herself holding her breath in anticipation.

As soon as the kiss began, it ended. He released her and gave her a gentle push away. With a self-deprecating chuckle, he attempted to straighten her hair. “I now see why the groom is supposed to travel separate from his bride. You’re far too tempting to leave untouched. It will be a miracle if I don’t fuck you in the church before we find a proper bed.”

Her mouth fell open and she could feel her face flush. She slapped a hand over her mouth and laughed out loud. “Don’t say things like that!” she yelped rolling her eyes toward the driver.

He snorted a laugh and then eyed her, his face growing serious. “You’re damn near twenty-eight, woman, you can’t be a virgin.”

Now it was her turn to snort. She opened her mouth to reply but Alejandro stopped her, holding up a hand and spreading his long fingers. “No, don’t tell me. Let us prevent the massacre of your legion of ex-boyfriends by pretending there have been none.”

Giggles erupted from her lips and she clutched at the ribbon around her middle. She eyed him to see if he was serious or not, but his face gave nothing away. “L-legion?” she asked, gasping for breath. “First of all, you’ve spent the last year cock-blocking me so I couldn’t get hold of a single man even if I wanted to. Not until that teeny date with Miguel the other day.” She changed the subject quickly when his face darkened. Apparently, her sitting there in a wedding dress headed to a church about to put his ring on her finger still didn’t absolve the doctor of the grave sin of enjoying Gina’s company. “And there have hardly been legions of men in my life! Nearly my entire family was murdered before I was out of my teens and I was whisked away to be protected for my own good, which hardly left room for dating. Eventually, when life settled down, yes, I was able to date…”

Alejandro let out a snarl and said, “Changed my mind, I want their names and addresses.”

She laughed. “Not a chance.”

He eyed her with a heated look that seared every particle of her being. She thought he was going for menacing, given his next words, but wet heat flooded her pussy, telling her that she secretly dug his ‘enforcer’ look. “I have ways of making you give up those names, Gina amor,” he growled.

“You gonna torture me, Alejandro?” she whispered spreading her legs a little and giving him a heated look of her own from beneath her lashes.

She could swear actual flames leapt into his eyes as they dropped to her lap. He was reaching for her when a throat cleared in the front seat of the vehicle reminding them that they weren’t alone. Her head snapped up and she realized they were no longer moving. Her cheeks heated up again, this time for a different reason, and she snapped her legs back together. Alejandro disagreed with her course of action, swooping for the bottom of her skirt and yanking it up while trying to wedge his hand between her legs. She let out a yelp and then slapped a hand over her lips to muffle the sound.

“We’re here, sir,” the driver told them in a neutral voice, averting his eyes from the rear-view mirror. Smart man.

“Get the fuck out,” Alejandro replied.

Gina tried to stifle her laugh at his bad temper but failed miserably. She tugged uselessly at his hand, but he just wrapped his long fingers around her thigh and tugged her legs open. She let out a moan just as the driver slammed the door shut on his way out. “Good man,” Alejandro mumbled, unbuckling her seatbelt with his other hand and hauling her into his lap.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she squeaked as her skirt flipped up and went in every direction so she couldn’t see. “Alejandro, we have to go get married now!”

“After,” he growled.

“After what?” she asked right before his fingers found her panties, shoved them to the side and sank into her. She let out a long, startled cry. “Ahhh…!”

“After I make you come all over my hand,” he breathed hotly in her ear and yanked her legs wider apart with a strong hand on her thigh. Now that he had better access he was able to sink his fingers deeper, gliding his thumb over the hood of her clit, coaxing the bud out. “I want to hear your cries in my ear, feel you writhing all over me, smell you when I make you my wife.”

“Oh… kaaay,” she moaned huskily, throwing her head back sharply into his jacketed shoulder. He reached into the front of her dress and squeezed the soft flesh of her breast while gliding his fingers in and out of her silken passage.

“So fucking wet, amor,” he growled against her, thrusting his hips up against her ass. “Feel what you do to me. I’m so hard for you. I want to fuck you like I’ve never wanted anyone in my life. I want to worship your body and never stop.”

His words were driving her higher and higher while his fingers played on her body. She turned her head and touched her mouth to his jaw feeling the texture of his skin against her lips, the hard rasp of his shaven chin against the softness of her own plush flesh. The scent of cigar and man drove her wild. She rocked her hips into his fingers, seeking the black velvet oblivion of orgasm.

“Yes, baby, that’s it,” he snarled in her ear. “Give it to me, come on my fingers.”

She did as he commanded, jerking against him, exploding in the sweetest orgasm she’d ever experienced. She cried out. He turned his head to hers, capturing her cries in a kiss while he continued to caress her pussy, helping her ride the shockwaves until she collapsed against him with a satisfied sigh.

He held her in his arms as she floated down from the delirious high of an orgasm she hadn’t induced herself, the first one she’d had in a very long time. She grinned and then she sat up straight nearly clipping him on the chin. Her hands flew up and she cried out, “My hair!”

He chuckled and set her on the seat next to him, carefully tugging her skirt back into place. Then he tilted her face toward him and straightened her hair once more, unclipping one of her barrettes and resetting it back in place. Patting her head, he said, “Perfection.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and replied, “Are we ready now? All the bodyguards know exactly what we’ve been doing in here.”

He grinned wickedly. “Si. They know exactly who you belong to, who can make your body and your heart sing.”

She thumped him on the chest, but she grinned again as she reached for the door.

“Gina,” he said, his tone sober once more. “Never exit the vehicle first. You know this rule.”

She nodded and suppressed a sigh. Of course, how could she forget yet another Alejandro rule? She settled back and waited for him to exit so he could take stock of their surroundings. Once finished, he took her hand and led her from the SUV directly into the church. She shaded her eyes against the sun and looked up at the gorgeous front. He didn’t give her much time to enjoy the building where she was to be married, but the little she saw was lovely, made with grey masonry, woodwork and stained glass. It was, of course, a Catholic church. She hadn’t asked, but she’d assumed given Alejandro’s Spanish ancestry and what she knew of his background that he would want to be married in a Catholic church.

When he escorted her through the front doors she saw Señora Morales right away. She’d been wondering if Alejandro’s mother would be here for the ceremony. It made sense. The older woman lived in La Paz, but she was frail and rarely left her home. She lived like a shut-in most of the time, so Alejandro was comfortable leaving her in the city in a gated community as his connection to her wasn’t well known. However, sometimes she was flown out to the compound for family gatherings, so Gina had met her a few times. She was always friendly, though somewhat reserved.

Selena Morales was wearing a dark purple skirt suit with a colourful hat perched on her grey head. “Gina,” she said kindly, her eyes lighting up when she saw the younger woman on her son’s arm. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” Gina smiled, taking her proffered hand and giving it a squeeze. “You look wonderful as well. And thank you so much for coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she replied, releasing Gina’s hand and stepping toward Alejandro. “I’ve been waiting months for this announcement.” She reached for her son and accepted his enveloping hug and a kiss on each cheek.

“Mama,” he murmured.

“Congratulations, my son. You have done well.” She smiled and stepped away, slipping her hand around his elbow. “Now if you will escort me to my seat. We will leave the bride to get ready.”

Alejandro looked toward Gina, clearly unwilling to leave her alone.

“I will take her from here,” Reyes said, striding forward.

Alejandro laughed and nodded. “Should’ve known you would butt into my business. You didn’t trust me to make an honest woman of your cousin?”

Reyes stopped beside Gina and placed a hand at her back. “I couldn’t allow my family to walk herself down the aisle,” he murmured, looking down at Gina. “Casey wanted to be here too, but I couldn’t allow it. Not with the events of last evening.” She glanced up at him. Though they’d always respected each other and she’d never had cause to fear Reyes, she kept a healthy distance. The man was both intense and frightening. She had no idea he cared enough to walk her down the aisle.

She smiled slightly and nodded at him. “Thank you.”

He took her arm and led her to the back of the church where they stood next to the last row of pews while Alejandro strode with his mother toward the front. No one else was there except for a nervous looking priest and the bodyguards, who stood in strategic places throughout the church. Gina supposed it wasn’t every day the man presided over mafia weddings with this kind of fire-power inside his sacred space. Gina glanced quickly away from the gathering of people, trying to reclaim her former happiness. She didn’t need to dwell on the smallness of this gathering, nor remember that this was a mafia family wedding. She was marrying the man that she loved. As she looked toward the front of the church, where he took his place and turned to look back toward her, she focused on that fact.

“Ready?” Reyes asked.

Gina smiled, and Alejandro smiled back at her. “Si,” she agreed without hesitation, “Let’s do this.”

11

Gina sat in the front row pew watching her new husband argue with his boss. Though they were far off to the side, standing underneath a stone archway, out of earshot, she could imagine the conversation. Alejandro wanted to stay in La Paz or fly on to another location where they could honeymoon with privacy. He’d said as much directly after the ceremony. Reyes had immediately denied the request, though Alejandro hadn’t exactly made it a request. He’d told Reyes of their plans. Now Reyes was attempting to convince his valuable second-in-command that the safest place for the new couple would be at the compound.

She understood Alejandro’s hesitation. It wasn’t part of his character to hide until the threat was over. No, he would want to hunt that threat down and neutralize it himself. But he couldn’t do that with a bride tagging along, especially one who wasn’t specialized in any form of combat. Her pathetic attempt at helping him the day before was proof enough of that. Alejandro also wanted to get Gina alone. Finally alone. No family, no bodyguards, no mafia interruptions. She understood that part and she wanted it too.

But she was torn. She also wanted to feel safe again. And she had felt safe at the compound. Never once had she ever thought it might be penetrable. Reyes had built it in such a way that not even Genghis Khan himself could’ve gained access.

“Not the honeymoon you were expecting,” Selena said from beside Gina.

Gina smiled tightly and shook her head. “We’ll manage, no matter what they decide.”

Selena sighed and shifted on the hard bench, attempting to find a more comfortable position. She turned her back on the heated discussion and studied her new daughter-in-law. “I think the decision has already been made and you know it. But I like that you always seem capable of finding the bright side. I have noticed this about you since your arrival in our tight-knit family. It’s a good quality to have, this ability to find a silver lining.”

“Gracias,” Gina said quietly, nodding her head at the compliment.

Selena continued, “Alejandro, he calls you the little mouse because he thinks you are shy. I think you are just quiet, observant. You are not impetuous, like your cousin. You think before you leap. Not that there is anything wrong with Casey, you are just different. A better match for mi hijo.”

Gina swallowed a laugh and simply thanked the woman again for her words. Selena might have thought her a lot less thoughtful if she’d seen her the evening before during the shootout. But she didn’t comment.

“You are very kind, Señora Morales,” she said and then continued in a rush, wanting to assure the woman of her affection for her son but feeling uncertain at the same time. They hadn’t had enough opportunity to form a bond over the past year, having only met a handful of times. Yet she was now Selena’s daughter-in-law. “I want you to know that I… I love Alejandro. He’s a wonderful man, and I think we will be very happy together.”

Selena smiled kindly and then snorted, the sound reminiscent of her son. “I’m sure you will, Gina. Despite your severe lack of choice up there in the mountains. Especially if I know my son. He would have been ensuring that lack of choice was even smaller by making sure you couldn’t get any closer than absolutely necessary to his men.”

Gina’s mouth fell open and then she giggled. “Rule number one, don’t talk to the men,” Gina said in a low deep voice.

Both women laughed together and chatted about Alejandro’s overly strict rule’s until they were interrupted by the priest who had performed the ceremony. He’d been coldly efficient so Gina hadn’t felt the need to do more than give him a quick smile after he’d finished the nuptials.

“Excuse me, Señoras’?”

“Si?” Selena answered for them, turning to the man.

He glanced quickly toward Alejandro and Reyes who’d stopped arguing and were now deep in discussion with Fredo and a few other of the men, likely hammering out logistics for getting the couple to the airport safely. Gina shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. It was a stark reminder that her entire family had perished under a similar threat, a similar hit. She was more than willing to put her honeymoon off until their safety was ensured. She just wanted to get back to the valley fortress, back to her cousin, and create her home with Alejandro.

“Perhaps I can distract the ladies from their present unpleasantness with a tour. The original foundations for this cathedral were built in 1789. The stained glass brought over from Italy…” He launched into an impassioned speech, far more animated than the wedding ceremony he’d just performed. Clearly, he cared far more for stones and mortar than people. Without checking to see if the women were following, he turned and began moving toward an archway further toward the front of the church talking loudly, his voice echoing in the room.

Selena and Gina looked at each other, somewhat surprised at his sudden interest in them. Gina shrugged and stood, smoothing her skirt down. She glanced toward the men, still conversing. One of the bodyguards stepped forward. She nodded toward the priest with an arched brow and he gave her a thumb’s up falling into step beside them as they hurried to catch up with the man who was still droning on about a bible sent over from the Vatican.

“… over a hundred years ago. Almost one of its kind. Only a dozen in existence.”

“Well then it’s not one of a kind, is it?” Selena asked, humour evident in her voice.

Gina laughed and tried to cover it up with a cough.

“Excuse me?” he asked, his robe swishing as he turned to give them an annoyed look. “Did you say something?”

Gina was pretty sure he’d heard, but Selena didn’t repeat herself. The priest continued his tour, moving them further through the church, taking them through several doors. She wondered why he was bothering with them. He didn’t seem to feel particularly motivated to be kind toward any of them.

“You simply must see the foundations,” he muttered, taking them toward a set of stairs. He began descending before the women had a chance to decline his offer. “Oldest part of the church. More than 300 years.”

“Yes, you said,” Selena replied drily, but the priest was descending at a rapid rate.

The lighting seemed to be almost as old as this part of the church and there was a noticeable chill. “I think we should turn around,” the bodyguard who’d accompanied them said, lifting his cell phone to look at it. “No service,” he said with a frown as they stopped on a landing.

“I think so too,” Gina agreed, hugging herself to ward off the chill and squinting into the shadowy darkness, trying to see which way the priest had gone.

A muffled pop sounded next to them startling her. The bodyguard collapsed, falling against Gina. She hurtled sideways catching herself against a stone pillar. She blinked, trying to see what’d happened and then blinked again as she tried to reach for the man to see why he was hurt, but Selena caught her hand.

“No, Gina,” she said, her voice calm but urgent. “You can’t help him.”

“I’m sorry,” the priest said, stepping into what little light there was, a gun raised in his hand. “I need you to come with me now.”

“You shot him!” Gina said accusingly.

“Start moving or she’ll be next. I only need to take the bride alive, though both would be better,” he said coldly. “We had no idea Reyes’ man had a madre in the city or we would have lured him out of hiding a long time ago.”

Selena snorted. “You would have tried.”

“Move,” he snapped and waved the gun, indicating they should walk further into the shadowy damp tunnel.

Selena maintained her hold on Gina and they moved together ahead of the priest. At one point, Selena took a shuffling step, pretended to stumble against Gina and went down on one knee. Gina knew it was an act because the older woman was careful to put most of her weight against Gina so she wouldn’t hurt herself. Gina grunted in protest, stumbling herself.

“Are you okay?” she asked, attempting to sound concerned instead of sarcastic.

“Fine, fine,” Selena said in a frail voice. “Help me up though.” As soon as Gina leaned over her, wrapping her arms around Selena, the other woman pressed her lips against Gina’s ear and whispered, “Are you armed?”

Gina shook her head.

Once she was back on her feet the priest shoved them forward and snapped, “Faster, or I kill the slow Señora Morales and hand over the young one.”

“Okay, we’re walking!” Gina cried, clutching Selena and praying she didn’t have any more stupid tricks to try. Unless it was stabbing the priest in the eye with his own cross and stealing his gun.

When they moved through a particularly dark shadow Selena pressed something cold and hard into Gina’s hand. She felt it with her fingers and quickly surmised it was a switchblade. A helluva lot bigger of a blade than the one she’d tried to use the day before. Well! The older Señora Morales had some decent tricks up her sleeve after all. Gina shoved it down the front of her dress when she was sure the priest wasn’t looking and caught the quick, approving grin Selena sent her.

“Stop here,” he commanded them.

Gina looked around but didn’t see anything special. Until he threw open a door leading outside. Bright sunlight streamed through the door, blinding them after their brief walk through the dank tunnel. Rapid Spanish met her ears. The cadence, the words, the way they were speaking told her everything she needed to know. Gang.

Two men entered through the door, their street clothes and tattoos pronouncing them thugs. Gina shuddered and flinched back when one of them reached for her. She lifted her hand instinctively to fight him off, but Selena said sharply, “Don’t fight back, girl.” Gina caught her eye and read between the lines, fight later when we have an advantage. She immediately dropped her hands. It took every ounce of self-control to let the man drag her into his body, to allow him to grab her by the face, yank on her hair and leer down at her, all while licking his lips and rubbing himself on her.

“Luego,” the other man said, snapping his fingers at the guy holding Gina. Awesome, she thought, vomit rising in her throat, he just gave the guy holding her permission to fuck her later. He tossed a stack of bills at the priest and dragged Selena toward the open door. Gina was pushed out the door too and into a car similar to the one that was used to attack her and Alejandro the night before.

As she was being shoved into the car, Gina resisted, turning to glare at the priest who stood in the open doorway clutching his money against his chest. Unable to resist, she pointed at him. “Alejandro is going to kill you for this, old man,” she hissed. “He’s going to take you apart piece by bloody piece until there’s nothing left. Then he’s going to piss on those pieces and set them on fire. Not even the devil will take you after he’s done!”

“May God be with you child,” the priest said, his eyes devoid of emotion. He slammed the door shut, leaving the women to their fate.

“You made the wrong choice!” she yelled elbowing the man holding her as he grabbed her by the neck and shoved her face first into the back of the car. Her skirt went flying everywhere. She heard it tear as he shoved it aside and hopped in after her. Selena was crammed in against the opposite door. There was a driver and the other guy in the front seat.

Selena took Gina’s hand and squeezed. “Shhh, calm down. It won’t help to scream at them.”

“Actually, I do feel a little better,” Gina snapped, glaring straight ahead.

The guy in the front passenger seat turned, pointed a gun at Selena’s head and told her in Spanish not to touch the door next to her. She held up her hands and assured him she wouldn’t. He then told them both not to do anything stupid and they would be delivered safely to ‘the boss.’ Gina cast a sideways glance toward Selena. Apparently, the boss wasn’t among these bad guys. Not that she was surprised. Stealing Alejandro’s mother and bride straight out of a church on such little notice under the noses of so many bodyguards with the help of a priest took both planning and balls of steel. It wasn’t the hallmark of ordinary street thugs.

“Put your seatbelt on,” Selena said in English. Gina frowned and glanced at her, thinking she can’t have heard the other woman correctly. Considering they were being kidnapped and driven toward what was almost certainly a gruesome death she didn’t really think seatbelts were paramount. Selena sighed, turned dark, annoyed eyes toward Gina. “I said, put your seatbelt on, niña. I don’t like repeating myself.”

Selena was reminding Gina more and more of Alejandro. Without a second thought she reached for her seatbelt, wrinkling her nose when she had to touch the gang scum’s hip to get it. And of course, he was half sitting on it. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, jerking it toward her. He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. She latched the belt and shifted her hips as close to Selena and as far away from him as she could. Selena latched her own seatbelt.

“Safety first,” Gina mumbled and attempted to settle as comfortably as she could when the driver pulled out of the alley and into traffic. He was driving at a normal rate, not trying to attract attention.

“Gina, love,” Selena said calmly, after they’d been driving for a few minutes. “I don’t think they speak English.”

The guy in front passenger seat, who seemed to be temporarily in charge, confirmed this when he turned around and snapped at them in Spanish to quit speaking. Selina nodded benignly, waited for a few minutes and then leaned heavily against Gina and whispered, “I’m going to need you to stab your friend over there in the neck. Do you think you can manage that?”

Gina gaped at Selena for a moment, thought about her request, and then nodded slowly. She would do what she had to do, but now she was wishing she’d told Selena earlier about her botched stabbing job of the evening before. She might not be the right woman for this sort of thing.

“Good girl,” Selena praised her quietly. “We’re pulling onto the freeway. Now’s a good time to start digging for that knife.”

Gina didn’t need to be told twice. Mostly because if she stopped to think about it, there was no way she would do something so dangerous as pull a switchblade on three gangbangers in the tight confines of the back seat of a car with Alejandro’s elderly mother as backup. But somehow the lady had as much of a commanding presence as her son and Gina seemed willing to follow her into this suicidal battle.

She plunged her hand into her cleavage, drawing the attention of the guy beside her, while Selena pulled her own skirt up, reaching for something underneath. “What you doing there, chica?” the guy asked from beside Gina.

Gina shrugged, pulling the blade and flipping it open. “She told me to stab you in the throat and I’m an obedient little soldier,” Gina told him.

But also squeamish, she thought as she closed her eyes and thrust the knife before he could bring his hands up to defend himself. She felt the blade sink easily into his flesh. Too easily. Shouldn’t it have hit his carotid or something? She cracked an eye only to see that she’d stuck the knife right through his eyeball and into his brain. He was dead, sitting up on the end of her knife. Or at least she was pretty certain he was dead. His other eye was open, and he was twitching, but his shoulders were slumped and he wasn’t moving otherwise.

“Oh my god,” she gasped snatching her hands away. “I’m so sorry!”

A hand grabbed her by the back of the head and shoved her down into the dead man’s lap. Bang, bang. Shots rang out, glass shattered. Gina covered her ears. Too late. They were already ringing from the gunfire. The car swerved wildly, bounced, swerved some more, swayed from side to side and then began to slow.

“Fucking puta, you killed him,” the driver was screaming. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

“You’re going to pull over,” Selena said calmly. “Unless you want the next one to go right through your skull like your friend here.”

Gina tilted her head and looked up at the guy she’d stabbed. His body was slumped forward, blood dripping down his face and onto her. She cringed back. “Ew,” she mumbled.

“You’ll need a stronger stomach than that if you are to survive my son. You should also probably learn the difference between a neck and an eye,” Selena observed. “You can sit up now.”

The car was pulled to the side of the road. Selena snapped her fingers toward the driver. “Gun and phone. Now. Hesitate and I take your head.”

The man did not hesitate. He passed the items back to Selena. She took them and stared coldly at him through the rear-view mirror. “You can tell your boss that he not only fucked with Alejandro, Reyes’ man, but he came after the widow of Viktor Morales, El Escorpion. This was a stupid move. Who do you think taught our son the things that he knows? There will be no mercy for fools.”

Gina had sat up and was looking around the car in a daze. Selena had shot the front passenger in the head and shattered the window in the process. They were pulled over on the side of an overpass. Luckily it wasn’t a well used overpass and there was no traffic.

“You steady, niña?” Selena asked, eyeing Gina while continuing to hold her gun on the driver.

“Uh huh,” Gina said faintly.

“Good, take this,” she said, handing Gina the gun she’d taken. “Shoot him if he tries anything. You,” she snapped at the driver, waving her own gun, indicating the door. “Get out and start hauling bodies to the side of the road.”

Gina swallowed a gag and tried to look as tough as her new mother-in-law. She suspected she was failing miserably. Selena climbed out of the car with the younger man, her body clearly stiff with discomfort. She was in her early 70’s and Gina knew she’d had her fair share of health issues. However, she was steady and strong as she followed the gang guy around the car, aiming her gun at his head while he jerked the back door open to pull the body next to Gina out. Though she’d been expecting it, Gina jumped back and aimed her gun at him too just in case he was foolish enough to try anything. He had the body halfway out when Selena stopped him to retrieve her knife.

Even the hardened gangster paled and muttered, “Madre de Dios!” when she yanked the switchblade out of his friend’s eye socket with a nasty sounding squelch.

Gina swallowed hard but continued to watch and move her gun around the interior of the car, keeping it trained on the bad guy as he moved the second body out of the car. Once it was thrown to the side of the road, Selena smiled grimly at their helper and shot him in the thigh. Gina’s mouth fell open. Her new mother-in-law was hardcore!

After his screams of agony died down Selena said calmly, “I couldn’t have you getting away too quickly. You’ll be pleased to know I didn’t hit anything major. Now you remember my message?”

“Fuck you, you vicious old cunt!” he shouted.

“Oh dear, that wasn’t my message at all,” she sighed, aiming for his other leg.

“No, no!” he shouted. “Viktor Morales widow… Scorpion!”

“Very good,” she praised and slid carefully into the driver’s seat turning the key in the ignition. With calm resignation, as though she were going for a Sunday drive, she shoulder-checked and pulled the car back onto the ramp. “Seatbelt, Gina.”

Gina stared at her in complete astonishment as she automatically slid back into her seat and reached for the belt. Ten minutes ago, she’d been convinced she was going to die on her wedding day. Now she suspected that her mother-in-law hadn’t had a single worry on that count. Hell, the two women hadn’t even sustained a single scratch during the entire kidnapping, which had taken a total of probably twenty-five minutes from the time the priest first started talking to them until now.

Selena glanced at Gina in the rear-view mirror. “You have something you’d like to say to me?”

Gina tilted her head. Yes, there were many things she wanted to say to Selena Morales; to ask her. Like who exactly was she? How did she know how to handle herself so well? Who was El Escorpion? And could Selena teach Gina to become brave like her? Instead she said the first thing that popped into her brain. “You shot two men, commanded that entire situation from start to finish like a pro and your hat is still exactly the same as it was when you entered the church.” Wonder and admiration mixed in her voice.

Selena laughed and eyed her new daughter-in-law with indulgence. “Si, niña. While you accidentally stabbed a man in the eye and now you have blood in your hair and on your beautiful dress.”

Revulsion twisted Gina’s face as she looked down at herself. Sure enough, she once more had streaks of blood all over her arms and the front of her dress. Panic began to swell and short breaths burst from her lips. She closed her eyes tight and reminded herself that she was safe now, they couldn’t get her. She glanced around and reached beside her for a discarded shirt to scrub away some of the blood.

“Here, take this,” Selena said, passing the cell phone back to Gina and eyeing her as though to make sure she wasn’t about to completely freak out. “I’m no good with these. I got him to tell me the code while he was moving the bodies, it’s 7089.”

Gina took it and typed the code in. She was relieved when the phone actually unlocked, and she immediately called Alejandro. He picked up right away, growling, “Si, who is this?”

“Alejandro, it’s me,” Gina said softly, her voice wobbly. She felt a rush of emotion at hearing his deep voice. Tears started in the corners of her eyes and she brushed at them impatiently. Stupid really, she managed to kill a guy and get through a kidnapping without tears but the moment she heard his voice she was ready to fall to pieces.

“Gina, where the fuck are you?” he demanded immediately, his voice rising in volume. “Are you safe?”

It was no use, the tears spilled over and a tiny hiccoughing sob escaped her lips. She tried to smother the sounds. “We’re safe. We’re both safe,” she assured him in a high-pitched watery voice. “Your mama saved us. We’re driving though, I don’t know where we are.”

“Of course she saved you,” he snapped. “I was extremely relieved when I discovered this fool had her kidnapped with you. I knew she would get you to safety. Put the phone on speaker so I can talk to her.”

Gina did as he commanded and held the phone out so Selena could talk. Rather than bother with any kind of emotion, the two held a quick, clipped conversation, agreeing that the best place for the women to meet was a remote café on the way to the airport.

When Alejandro said, “Keep my bride safe,” to his mother, Gina felt the need to defend herself. After all, she’d somewhat held her own. “I stabbed a guy and I did a better job this time! I actually killed him.”

Selena snorted but didn’t bother interrupting to tell how Gina had missed her mark by a long shot. She probably wasn’t going to make the best mafia wife. But dammit, she could bake and dance, and she had plenty of other wonderful qualities. And despite everything, Alejandro had chosen her and she had chosen him. They were a team now.

12

Alejandro wanted to tear La Paz apart stone by stone until he had the man responsible for his woman’s abduction. Though he knew if Reyes was correct in his assumption that the person behind this mess was as much a heavy as themselves, then the likelihood of his being in Bolivia was slim. This was the reason he kept sending amateurs in. Which was why Alejandro kept getting lucky. If his enemy, whoever he was, got smarter, Alejandro might not continue this lucky streak. He needed to be more careful now that he had more than himself to think of.

“I can practically read your thoughts, amigo,” Reyes said from beside him. They were travelling in the back of one of the armoured SUV’s to the meeting point to pick up the women. “Your anger will make you reckless.”

Alejandro grunted and cracked his neck to the side to relieve some of the pressure. He’d had to make short work of killing the priest. It hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as it would’ve been if he’d had the time to do a proper job. “I’ve been angry before. Never interfered with my job.”

Reyes grunted and nodded. “Fair.”

They didn’t speak again until they pulled up to the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet Gina and Alejandro’s madre. He spotted the car she’d described and pointed his driver toward it. Relief blasted through him, releasing tense muscles when he saw the two heads he was hoping for leaning against the rear bumper. One bright blond and the other wearing a pert, colourful hat.

“Fuck, there’s blood all over her again,” he growled. “Look at her!”

“But she’s safe, amigo,” Reyes said calmly. “This is the main goal.”

He was out of the vehicle before it had fully stopped and wrapped his arms around Gina, who let out a startled yelp and dropped the plastic cup she’d been calmly sipping from. It landed on the pavement at their feet splashing pop and ice cubes everywhere. She reached around his waist and hugged him back, pressing her face into his neck and breathing deep. Alejandro reached blindly for his mother, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing in an attempt to convey his gratitude. He felt her soft hand cover his.

“Though it is unlikely that we were followed here, it’s best that we leave for the airfield directly,” Reyes said gruffly from behind them. “I would also suggest Señora Morales spend some time enjoying our hospitality in the mountains. Now that our enemy is aware of her existence, they will likely try to use her against you.”

“They can certainly try,” Selena said pertly straightening up and placing her cup on the trunk of the car. “Nonetheless, I’d like to avoid another afternoon like this. I retired for a reason.”

“Retired?” Gina asked, popping her head out from under Alejandro’s embrace.

“Oh, you didn’t think I was referring to my poor dead husband as The Scorpion when I was threatening that young man, did you?” Selena said slyly, reaching for the door handle of the SUV. “Come on, let’s get moving. This heat is deadly.”

Catching the look on Gina’s face, Alejandro let out a booming laugh and urged her to slide in after his mother. “Mi amor, I can assure you, you have been rescued by one of the deadliest assassin’s to ever grace the ranks of Venezuela’s elite commando unit. She was my mentor first, then mi madre.”

Awe warred with disbelief as Gina looked at Selena Morales through new eyes. “What did your dad do?” she asked faintly.

Alejandro shrugged. “He was a chef.”

“And a damn good one,” Selena said smartly, patting her belly. “Made the best cordon bleu I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting.”

Alejandro leaned down to speak in Gina’s ear conspiratorially. “We called it apology chicken. He made it whenever he screwed up and had to apologize to mama. The chicken worked better than words ever did. It came in handy living with one of the world’s most effective killers.”

Gina continued to eye Selena during their short ride to the airport. They hustled onto the helicopters without pause and were in the sky within minutes. Gina gasped in fear and cringed in her seat when two jets roared past them and circled back. Alejandro took her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers, then assured her, “They’re ours, cariña. Simply an escort to see us safely home. The military owes El Rey many favours.”

She nodded and sat back in her seat, but her eyes remained glued to the window during the entire flight, her body stiff with anxiety. He wished that he could help her relax. Assure her that the likelihood of attack in these mountains, with a military escort at their sides, was virtually zero. But Alejandro knew that Gina wouldn’t feel safe until her feet were back on the ground at the compound.

If he was a better man, perhaps he would not have made Gina his wife. Perhaps he would have let her go. Resettled her elsewhere in the world, where she could have a chance at happiness in a normal life. She deserved that. She wasn’t mafia material. She was soft, lovely and moral. She loved flowers, kittens and baked goods. In the past year she’d done her best to muddle her way through their world with a happy smile and positive words. But over and over he’d watched her stumble. A frown here when she overheard the family speak of product crossing borders and a flinch there when she watched the men in combat training. She tried to become invisible when the mafia world flowed around her, pretend that everything was normal. So unlike her cousin who thrived in the world they were born to.

Yet, Alejandro was not a better man. He was decent enough when he put his mind to it and now he would spend the rest of his life being the best man he could for Gina. He’d stolen her chance at normal. So now he would bring normal to her every opportunity he could. He would build her a white picket fence at the compound. He would fill their house with flowers and kittens. He would make sure she was never covered in blood again.

“Cariño, we’re here.”

Her soft voice, coming through the headset startled him. He looked around the cabin and realized they were the only two left. The others must have exited quietly to give them a moment. Alejandro never missed anything, yet Gina was capturing his attention to the point that he was losing focus. He looked at her, a frown creasing his forehead. Perhaps he should have sent her away. For both their sakes. But he knew it would be the same as yanking out his own heart and sending it with her. Life would have become a colourless empty shell until his death.

He pulled the headset off and helped her out of the aircraft. Predictably, the moment her feet hit the pavement, a shrieking blond launched herself into Gina’s arms, tearing Alejandro’s hand from hers. He allowed the separation, understanding that the cousins needed a moment. Besides, denying Casey anything she wanted was a good way to get himself killed by her husband. Alejandro’s and Reyes’ years-long friendship meant nothing when it came to indulging Reyes’ wife.

“Look at you, Gina!” Casey cried, holding her cousin at arm’s length. Alejandro smirked waiting for the verdict, blood or dress? “What a fabulous dress! It’s absolutely gorgeous. Who picked it out? Is it Valentino? Dior? Let me see the shoes! I wanted to go to the ceremony so bad, but Reyes said I couldn’t. I would’ve gone anyway but there weren’t any helicopters left.”

Dress. She hadn’t even noticed the red streaks all down Gina’s front and in her hair. He should have known the bloodthirsty little hellion wouldn’t care about a little blood. Now she was a true mob wife. He’d seen her in action. Casey killed without remorse when it was warranted, stood at her husband’s side and made carefully plotted power decisions.

She wrapped an arm around Gina and urged her toward the jeeps. “Come on, there’s a wedding feast up at the main house. You can eat and tell me all about the ceremony.”

Alejandro growled in frustration. It would seem he wouldn’t have his bride to himself for awhile yet. He should have anticipated this. He glared at Reyes who had the audacity to laugh at him. “Would you have let your bride just walk off untouched on your wedding day?” he demanded.

“Fuck no,” Reyes replied instantly, eyeing the jeep as it took off with their wives and Alejandro’s mother. “But you try saying no to Casey when she’s determined. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten Mexico?”

Alejandro grunted and swung into the second jeep, determined not to let Gina get too far out of sight. “She took a pot-shot at you and damn near found a way out of these mountains by herself.”

“Si, and her aim has only improved since then.” It was true. Alejandro himself worked with Casey on her shooting. The woman was a natural. “Just come up to the house, eat some food, take your woman home. I will deal with Casey if she gets out of hand.”

“Just try not to use the fingers she has herself wrapped around when getting your woman in hand.” Alejandro ducked the punch aimed at his head and laughed the first lighthearted laugh he’d managed since he’d discovered his bride was missing.

The meal Casey had asked the chef to prepare was indeed a feast worthy of their wedding day and seeing the pleased look on Gina’s face as they lifted their glasses to toast the bride and groom, Alejandro was glad that he hadn’t just dragged her back to his home. She deserved every happiness possible, even if it meant he had to wait a little longer to bury himself in the woman he’d spent a year pining over. Hell, it had been a year since he’d touched any woman, period. It was like the moment he met Gina, his dick was no longer interested in anyone else. And Alejandro was old enough, experienced enough to get the message. Gina was forever material. The type of woman a man waited for. Did not take for granted by fucking around on. Even if she never knew the depth of his feelings until he was ready to declare himself.

So, he lifted his glass, toasted, smiled and laughed alongside his bride and the rest of the family. He spent two hours accepting congratulations, talking, eating and listening to Spanish music. Finally, he was able to wait no longer; he wanted Gina to himself. He sent their host a meaningful look and was rewarded with a nod for his patience. Alejandro took Gina’s hand in a firm grip and stood, drawing her up with him. She gave him a startled look but didn’t protest.

“Though the evening is not late, it has been a long day and I am eager to have my bride to myself,” Alejandro told the table. “Excuse us, por favor.”

Casey stood. “But we haven’t had cake yet.” Alejandro was certain she would have run to her cousin if Reyes hadn’t captured her wrist and tugged her back down into her seat.

“Let them go,” he said in an authoritative drawl. “You have seen for yourself that she is well, mi reina. Now you must relinquish her to the care of another.” When it looked as though Casey would argue, he lifted a brow and said, “Let her go. I insist.” Casey bit her lip and fell silent, though she frowned at her husband, clearly torn.

Alejandro and Gina said their goodbyes. He allowed Casey to give her cousin a tight hug and promised that the two women would meet the following day before pulling his bride away. Though he would rather keep her to himself for longer than a day he knew he would have to work. The problem of whomever had been targeting him still existed. Alejandro would not rest until that particular threat was entirely extinguished.

After making sure that his madre would be taken care of at the mansion, he strode through the hall with Gina and out into the crisp mountain air. She looked around confused as he escorted her toward his car, brought around as requested. “You didn’t think we’d be staying here, did you?” he asked, opening the passenger door for her and arranging the skirt of her wedding gown before closing the door.

After he took the driver’s seat she answered. “I guess not. But we aren’t staying in the barracks with the men, are we?”

“Certainly not,” Alejandro assured her, but abstained from clarifying their whereabouts until they approached the home he’d had built on the far side of the compound. He watched her face as they drove up to the house, set away from the rest of the buildings. It wasn’t like anything else on the property. It was much smaller than the mansion, but still large and beautifully designed. He knew that Gina’s family was originally from Georgia, so he asked the architect to go with an older southern US style home with a wraparound balcony. Of course, he’d had the structure reinforced to withstand potential conflicts as well as Andean weather.

“Oh!” she gasped, her hand going to her mouth. Her grey eyes widened as they took the entire white and blue structure in. Then she turned to look at him, speechless.

“I began plans for it a few months after you arrived and had it started a few months ago. I moved my things in on Tuesday. Your things were moved yesterday while we were in La Paz,” he told her. “There are brand new furnishings. And of course, I expect you to pick out whatever you want, or make any changes that will make you happy.” When she continued to stare as if she couldn’t believe her eyes, he took her hand and then turned her chin so she would look at him. “If it doesn’t make you happy, mi amor, we can burn it and start over. Hell, we can build a mansion bigger than the main house. Though I am not sure your cousin will like that. She can be a competitive little thing.”

Gina half-choked, half-laughed and reached for the door. “Don’t you dare burn it!” She jumped out of the car and began walking fast toward the front doors. “I want to see inside. Do you have the key?”

“Door code,” he growled following quickly behind her and scooping her up in his arms before she could reach the front steps. She squealed and gripped his shoulders laughing up at him while he strode with her to the door.

“101290,” he told her, punching in the code.

“My birthday,” she murmured and then rolled her eyes. “Not very stealthy, Alejandro.”

He shrugged and gently set her back on her feet once they were over the threshold. He held her tight against him, allowing her no room to wriggle out of his grip. “We live in a very secluded place. Anyone of importance already has this code. Anyone else foolish enough to seek entrance uninvited will meet with a very bad end.”

She nodded, peeking around him and smiling delightedly. “Just so long as I don’t have to stab anyone. I’m not very good at it yet.” She tried to step away from him toward the kitchen, but he tugged her back into the shelter of his arms.

It was beautiful like the main house, but different, understated, like her. She showed her appreciation in the delighted smiles she gifted him and the soft touches she ran over the furnishings as they explored together. Of course, he’d already inspected every detail of their new home, ensuring perfection for his new wife, but seeing everything through her eyes was like seeing it for the first time. Only this time without judgement or prejudice. Just the simple pleasure of knowing he had made good choices.

They made their way to the top floor, toward the master bedroom. His breathing became somewhat erratic with each step, as though he were a fumbling teenager instead of a full-grown man in his late thirties. It had been more than a year since he’d touched a woman sexually, but the skills should still all be there. He shouldn’t be this damn nervous. Except every time he glanced down at Gina’s lovely face and curvy body, every thought fled. He was left trembling with the need to grab her, throw her down on the nearest surface and fuck her senseless. He was thinking about doing just that to take the edge off, hell he could do finesse after, when she let out a huge yawn that she didn’t quite have enough time to smother.

He took a good look at her, absorbing the still bloody gown she wore and the delicate shadows of fatigue beneath her eyes. He felt like a pig. “Let’s get you into the bath,” he said gruffly. At least wash the blood and grime from her kidnapping away before he attacked her.

She smiled happily. “I would love a bath, thank you.”

“It’s through here,” he showed her through the bedroom and into their ensuite. It was bright and roomy with a shower, separated bath tub and a vanity stacked high with fluffy white towels. He opened a white cabinet next to the tub and showed her a selection of products. Gina squeezed in next to him and ran her finger over the labels.

“These are all mine,” she murmured, then clarified, “I mean, the brands that I prefer.”

“I know,” he said, tilting her chin up so he could steal a kiss before stepping away from her.

“Stalker,” she said accusingly, but the smile on her lips took the sting from the word.

He grinned. “From the day you moved into the main house, mi amor. Now I will go and pour a glass of wine to go with your bath.”

Her face softened, and he could swear his heart melted a little more. “If you’re not careful you’ll spoil me. I’ll start to expect this sort of treatment all the time and then where will you be?”

He shrugged and backed away, leaving her to her bath. “Apology chicken, I suppose.”

“You can cook too?” she yelled after him and giggled. “If I wasn’t already in love you with you, this would be it.”

He chuckled and strolled down the stairs toward their new kitchen, feeling lighter than he had in years. While his madre had taught him the ways of assassination, his padre had, in fact, taught him the art of food. He was confident in his abilities to please his woman in the kitchen. He unbuttoned his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair before reaching for a bottle of Champagne, aiming it away from him and popping the cork. He spotted a couple drops of blood on the white sleeve of his dress shirt and shook his head. The priest had been stubborn, hadn’t given up his employer before Alejandro’s patience had run out. His death had been quick, but violent.

He unbuttoned his shirt down the front until he reached the vest and stopped. He ran a hand over his chest and thought he could probably use a shower before he took his bride to bed, wondered if he had the patience to wait that long. He could fuck her first, then shower, then make slow, leisurely love to her when his cock had been satiated at least once. He’d been patient for a year, now he wanted to sink into the woman that had obsessed him to the point of madness. Somehow, he knew it would be like coming home after being away forever.

He grabbed the Champagne bottle by the neck, along with two glasses and took the stairs two at a time, eager to catch a glimpse of his new wife naked and wet in her bath. He came to an abrupt halt, a growl of frustration leaving his lips when he found her. She was indeed naked and wet. She was also sound asleep, snoring softly.

He set the bottle and glasses down on the vanity, careful not to make any sound that could wake her. He poured himself a large glass of the bubbly, amber liquid and knelt next to the tub. Selfish bastard that he was, if he couldn’t fuck her on their wedding night, he would at least look his fill. He allowed his eyes to trail from her pretty, rounded face, down her chest, bobbing evenly against the bubbles as she slumbered. Even her flawless knees, turned up against the side of the tub were a gorgeous turn on. Her face was relaxed into the curve of her arm against the side of the tub, while her other arm floated lazily in the water.

Alejandro carefully slid his finger through the bubbles. When she continued to sleep undisturbed, he touched his finger to the clean wet strands of her hair and moved them gently away from her beautifully rounded breasts, revealing the rosy tips. He touched the pad of his thumb against her nipple and watched as it grew plumper, rosier, dipping in and out of the heated bath water in concert with the rise and fall of her chest. His dick thanked him by pressing urgently against the zip of his tuxedo trousers. The goddamn single shred of decency he had did not thank him. It called him every kind of fool as he tilted the wineglass against his mouth and drank deeply. He wished for something stronger to take the edge off his lust.

He would remove his woman from her bath, tuck her into bed and take a shower himself, find some release from the damn hard-on he’d been sporting since the moment he saw his bride that morning. Then he would find a real drink and see if there was any intel on the men who had hit his wedding weekend. Perhaps if he killed someone he would be less likely to ravish an unconscious woman. Looking down at the beautiful, sleeping blond, he forced himself to stand and step away from the tub.

13

Gina moaned and tried to roll onto her side, but something stopped her. She reached out, sliding her hand across the silky bamboo sheets. Where had the fluffy blankets gone? Then something intensely pleasurable shifted her thoughts away from any other musings. She tried to sit up so she could see what was happening, but a huge hand reached out and palmed between her breasts, shoving her back down. She hit the pillows behind her while the sensation of a tongue working magic directly between her legs increased until she was moaning helplessly and reaching over her head to grasp hold of something, anything, as an orgasm built.

Just as she thought she would shatter into a thousand pieces he shifted, changing his attack tempo and forcing her budding orgasm to calm. She whimpered in misery and reached out to grasp his hair, “No!” she yelled, tugging at the strands. “Almost there, don’t stop!”

He chuckled against her, vibrating her clitoris with his deep voice. He took her wrists in his hands and pressed them into the mattress. She wanted to shout at him, but suspected he knew exactly what he was doing to her. He let her hands go, pushed her thighs wider and pressed one long finger inside her. She shrieked and nearly arched off the bed as pleasure erupted within and throughout her. It had been so long since she’d felt even close to this good!

“Alejandro!” she yelled. “Please don’t stop!”

He kissed each of her thighs and growled against her, “I will never stop bringing mi amor as much pleasure as she demands, as she can handle.” Then he continued to lick and suck her until she was screaming and demanding he never stop. Her legs shook as one earth-shattering orgasm hit her, then another. He fingered her through yet another until she begged him to give her a break. “As mi mujer commands,” he growled, climbing up her body.

Gina wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders as he lined himself up against her soaked entrance. She lifted herself against him, bringing her knees up alongside his muscular ribs and lifting her hips in a silent plea. He needed no more urging. He took a fistful of her hair, tugged her head back against the pillow and buried his face in her neck at the same time as he drove himself into her body, burying himself deep. She let out a long, satisfied growl and surged against him, digging her nails into his ribs and biting his shoulder. He growled back and cupped the back of her head in his large hand, tangling his fingers through her hair, catching her up against his chest as he surged wildly into her, filling her, surrounding her.

Gina held on tightly, clinging to him as she rode the storm. He took her savagely, and though she enjoyed every moment, she was glad he prepared her first with his mouth and his fingers because she didn’t know if her body could handle the way he was slamming into her with such intensity if she weren’t so wet, so orgasmic.

He went on and on until she thought she would have to beg him to finish. Then he shifted, pulled her legs up to his shoulders and began really slamming into her. She shrieked as she adjusted to the new position, her pussy tightening around his cock as it gripped him, pleasure shooting through her. He gripped her hands and forced them over her head, urging her to grip the headboard. When she took hold of it, he let her go and caressed her legs and ankles, then reached between her legs and glided his fingers over her slippery clitoris.

She came in an explosion, sheathing him tight. He grunted, dropping a kiss against her ankle and grunting, “Can feel you, Gina. Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Alejandro!” she screamed as he slammed forcefully into her.

“Coming with you, baby,” he groaned.

“Can feel you too,” she panted as he grew bigger inside her. Then she felt the warm rush of semen as he thrust one last time and buried himself deep inside her. She stared up at him, loving the fierce frown of concentration on his face, knowing she’d put it there. The muscles of his shoulders bulged as he carefully bent over top of her, kissed her lips and then collapsed to the side of her so he wouldn’t crush her. She rolled against him and pressed her lips against his throat, loving the strength she felt in his arms as he drew her against his bare chest.

“I’m sorry, cariña,” he murmured against the top of her head, smoothing the flyaway hair back and kissing her.

“For what?” she asked, bemused. The sex had been truly spectacular, though she was certain she’d be a little sore come morning. But she wasn’t surprised. Alejandro had rough written all over him.

“For being a one-pump chump,” he said. “Next time we’ll take our time. Truly get those multiple orgasms going. I should’ve been able to go all night. It’s just, I’ve been waiting for you since I set eyes on you, couldn’t hold it in. Next time will be better, last longer, I promise.”

Her mouth fell open and she leaned back to look at his face to see if he was joking. Nope, he looked completely serious. Alejandro really could go all night if he wanted to. Her thighs clenched involuntarily, and her mouth went dry. Oh my. She was going to need to work on her stamina if she was going to keep up with her new husband.

As if sensing her thoughts, he kissed her mouth and flashed her a grin. “Get some sleep, mi amor. I will need another fuck in the morning before work.”

“Dear god,” she murmured, but settled back against the pillows deciding to take him at his word. If he woke her up the same way he had this time she certainly wasn’t going to complain.

Sure enough, Alejandro woke her up with more of the same. This time, instead of his tongue, she woke to his fingers working their magic inside of her. She was already orgasming before she was fully conscious, her husband rising above her. He flipped her over onto her stomach, spread her legs and thrust into her from behind. She screamed out in surprise, feeling every inch of his large cock glide through her folds and into her sore, but fully lubricated vagina. She reached out, gripping handfuls of pillow as he took her hips into his broad palms and jerked her back onto his cock, sheathing her completely.

“Fuck!” he shouted.

Gina glanced behind her to see him rising up over her back like a predator pinning its prey, his head thrown back, his neck straining. She was fascinated by the savagery, by the sheer male beauty of him. He fucked her while she lay helpless to do anything but take him, her pussy shivering with the aftershocks of the orgasm he’d forced on her while she was still half-asleep. Another began to build as he pumped into her. Gina reached under her hips, spreading her knees further, so she could reach and ran her fingers over the engorged bud of her sensitive clit. A hiss of pain and pleasure escaped her.

“Yes, baby,” he growled from above her, wrapping his hand around her neck while he continued to fuck her. “Touch yourself.”

His words, combined with the possessiveness of his hold drove her over the edge. She pinched her clit and cried out from the sharp, intense orgasm that hit her. Her pussy pulled him in tight, refusing to let him go, taking control of him. His thrusts grew more and more erratic, the hand on her throat tightening until she had to arch back and gasp for breath. Still, she loved every moment, grasping and clawing higher into her orgasm until he joined her with a shout of his own.

He collapsed onto her back, his arm wrapping possessively around her neck. She turned her head to the side, taking in as much air as she could. They lay that way for a few moments until Alejandro seemed motivated enough to roll to the side, tucking a winded Gina against him.

“Madre de dios,” he groaned. “You’re going to kill me, woman.”

She giggled. “Hey, you started it!” She cocked her head to the side as though thinking. “Twice!”

He groaned again and gently set her away from him, tugging a blanket up to cover her nakedness. “Perhaps, mi amor, but you finish it every time.” He sat on the edge of the bed and reached for his underwear. “I have work to do, go back to sleep.”

Gina snorted and leaned up on her elbow to watch him while he got dressed. “You keep waking me up,” she said accusingly, smothering a yawn.

He leaned down after tugging on a shirt and kissed her forehead. “I promise to let you sleep until this evening.” Then he said seriously, “Don’t go up to the main house without an escort. Samuel is at your disposal.”

Gina frowned. “Why do I suddenly need an escort? I thought we were safe here in the valley.”

He towered over the bed and reached for his jacket. “You don’t need to question it, you just need to do it. Sam will be your personal bodyguard from now on.”

Her jaw dropped, and she sat up straight, clutching the blanket to her chest. “But I never had an escort before,” she protested. “I don’t want one, Alejandro.”

Alejandro’s head turned and he pinned her with a look that told her she needed to quit arguing. They looked at each other for a moment until Gina dropped her gaze to the bed. He leaned forward and took her chin, tilting her face until she was looking up at him. “Are we going to have a problem?”

“No, Alejandro,” she told him quietly.

He turned and strode from the room without another glance, leaving Gina alone, naked and shivering in the bed. She yanked the blanket up to her neck and curled onto her side, trying to enjoy the slide of new sheets while banishing the chill of Alejandro’s exit. She knew that her marriage wouldn’t be all roses and rainbows. He’d told her as much at Gustu. Still, a personal bodyguard in the middle of the Andes seemed like overkill. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and decided to sleep on the problem.

14

“Do you have arsenic?” Gina asked, leafing absently through a cookbook.

“What on Earth for?” Casey asked, stacking supplies on the counter. “What else do you need?”

Gina leaned over and checked the muffin recipe. “Creamed butter and milk.”

Casey opened the stainless-steel door of her refrigerator and stuck her head inside. “Don’t have creamed butter, just the regular kind, but here’s the milk.”

Gina laughed and reached around her cousin for the butter. “The regular kind will work just fine. I can cream it myself. You really need to learn how to cook.”

Casey backed out of the fridge with a key lime pie held in her arms like a prize of war. She looked around for her housekeeper and danced toward the drawer for forks, handing one to Gina. “Haven’t needed to cook for myself since… well, since I’ve been alive. Why learn now?”

Gina frowned. Casey had a point. She tilted her head to the side and ate a bite of pie. “Well do you at least know how to use a can opener in case of a zombie apocalypse?”

Casey shrugged and took a huge bite of pie. “I’m a slow runner and I usually wear designer heels. I fully expect the zombies to get me right away. You’ll probably have to put me down so I don’t try to eat your brains.”

Gina made a face and took another bite of pie. “No way. Reyes wouldn’t let that happen. He’d chain you up in the basement and feed you a steady diet of bad guy brains until the scientists he had locked up in a laboratory came up with a cure.”

Casey laughed and high-fived her cousin. “True that, thank goodness for his crazy ass!”

The two women continued to chat and laugh together until the kitchen door banged open, startling them both. Casey dropped her fork and looked guilty for a split second thinking it was the housekeeper busting their asses. When she saw Reyes and Alejandro enter, she hopped up with a grin. “Hey, we were just talking about you…” she trailed off when she saw the grim look on their faces. “What’s going on?”

Gina was glad Casey was brave enough to ask because the cold look Alejandro was giving her was enough to freeze her to the spot. Not even her vocal chords seemed capable of working. Without a word to either woman he stepped into the kitchen, took Gina by the arm and escorted her out. She glanced back at her cousin.

“Hey!” Casey snapped. “I asked you what the hell is going on?”

“You don’t need to speak right now,” Reyes told his wife calmly.

“What the fuck, Reyes,” Casey said, her voice high-pitched with concern as her cousin was hauled away. She tried to follow them through the kitchen door, but Reyes grabbed her and held her back.

Gina was on her own. She stumbled to keep up with him as his long legs ate up the space to the front door. Her feet barely touched the ground as he swung her through and out into the afternoon sunshine. She gasped as he flung the door to his jeep open and shoved her inside. He jerked the seatbelt across her breasts and latched it before crossing in front to get in the driver’s side. Gina briefly thought about jumping out and running back to the safety of her cousin, but the look Alejandro gave her told her that would be a bad idea. Plus, she was pretty certain Reyes wouldn’t hesitate to give her back to his second-in-command.

“Please!” she cried as he threw the jeep into drive and hit the gas. “Why are you angry with me? What’s happening?”

“Not angry with you,” he growled.

“Well if this isn’t anger then I hope I never see what angry looks like!” she yelled as the jeep took a turn going way too fast in her opinion.

“I’m frustrated!” he snapped. “Because of all the motherfuckers in the world that could have come back from the dead to cause problems, it had to be this one.”

Gina flinched against the door when he slammed his fist into the dashboard, crushing the hard plastic. Her knuckles turned white and she counted the passing seconds in her head until they were in front of their home. She practically leapt out of the car and ran around the front of the vehicle where he took her arm and walked her up to the front of the house.

The moment they were inside he turned her to face him, his dark eyes black with the intensity of his emotions. She’d seen Alejandro in many states, but she had never seen this loss of control before. This desperation. What was going on?

He took her face in his big hands and backed her up until she hit a wall. “Tell me you are loyal,” he demanded, his voice a deep growl. “Loyal to me, loyal to El Rey. Tell me you will never leave, no matter what happens. No matter what you hear.”

“Of course!” she gasped, her hands coming up to cover his. “I promise. But Alejandro… you know I’m loyal. I’ve never given cause to question this.”

“Not good enough,” he growled and slammed his mouth over hers, kissing her with such brutality she felt her lips cut under the onslaught and blood fill her mouth. She struggled to turn her head, but he brought a hand up to hold her still. Then his hands were everywhere, tugging and tearing at her clothes until her leggings were torn from her body and he was lifting her, wrapping her legs around him.

“Alejandro!” she cried out, clutching his shoulders, not sure if she could accommodate him while fear and anxiety flooded her system. He didn’t wait to find out though. He reached between them, unbuckled and unzipped, pulled his hard length from his combat fatigues and then urged her down on top of him. She cried out as her body struggled to accept his thick girth.

He dropped his head into her shoulder and licked her. “Come on baby, I need you. Please, take me in,” he groaned, wrapping one huge hand around her ass and squeezing. The caress combined with his deep voice vibrating through her created a swirling need within, easing his way. She cried out again as her body accepted his more easily, sliding down. He took her curvy ass in both hands and lifted, then dropped, sheathing her completely on his steel-like hardness. She moaned and dropped her head back against the wall, wrapping her legs firmly around him and holding onto his shoulders as he began fucking her against the wall with hard, deep strokes.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

Gina opened her eyes, tears streaming from the corners as she did. He shifted her so that one arm wrapped around her waist while he continued to thrust. He used his other hand to brush the tears from her cheeks and smear the blood on her lips. Then he held her head in place and stared at her. “I love you, Gina.”

She smiled through her tears and hugged him tighter. “I love you, too.”

He turned with her and dropped her against the edge of a leather couch she hadn’t even sat on yet, leaned over her, wrapped his arms tight around her and thrust so deep she saw stars as she came with a sudden explosion, her pussy tightening around him. “That’s it, mi amor,” he groaned from above her, swallowing her cries as she thrashed beneath him. “Just let yourself go. I’ll take care of you.”

Then he followed her over the edge, thrusting hard into her for several more seconds while she clung to him helplessly, staring up at his harsh features with awe. She reached up to touch his face as he bathed her in his seed, his face twisted in a fierce grimace. When he finished, he set her naked on the couch and knelt at her feet.

When their breathing evened out, he began speaking. “We know who was behind the attempt on my life in La Paz and your kidnaping.”

“Who?” Gina asked, eager for knowledge so they could put the episode behind them and move on.

He sighed, rolled his massive shoulders and cracked his neck to the side, relieving tension. He took her hands in his and asked, “How old were you when your family died in the cartel hit?”

Gina frowned. Alejandro knew all this. “Sixteen.”

“What do you remember?” he asked.

“Nothing, I was on a school trip when the hit took place. That’s why I wasn’t killed too,” she told him. “Why are you asking me this? You already know everything.” She was agitated. She hated remembering what happened to her family, the hits.

“Don’t you think it’s strange that an organized crime group would ensure both your and Casey’s family is all together for the execution, then miss you?”

She reached for a blanket folded on the end of the couch and covered herself, averting her eyes. She didn’t want to talk about this, it was too painful.

Alejandro sat down beside her, pulling her into his arms, but forcing her head up so she had to look at him. He tucked the edge of the blanket around her shoulders. “I know you do not like discussing this, but we need to, mi amor.”

Gina nodded, tears pricking her eyes. She shrugged, clutching the blanket against her chest. “I guess I always wondered how I escaped. I assumed it was luck, but the mafia doesn’t really deal in luck, do they?”

Alejandro smiled grimly and touched the tear that trailed from her eye to her cheek. “You were never lucky. You were allowed to escape. Someone in your family sold out to the Mexicans, telling them when and where the hit was to take place in exchange for both of your lives. He didn’t trust that they wouldn’t kill him anyway, so he fled. His plan was to come back for you when the dust settled on your family’s graves.”

Her mouth opened, and her eyes glazed in horror as understanding dawned. There could be only one person that Alejandro was talking about, one person whose body had never been found. “My brother,” she whispered. She’d always assumed he’d been taken, tortured and killed. Like Casey’s, his grave in Miami was empty. “But why?” she asked, heartbroken, already knowing the answer.

Alejandro’s voice hardened when he answered anyway. “Money. Power. The things men will usually sell out their family’s for.”

“My mom,” Gina gasped, the tears coming faster now. She closed her eyes tight and tried not to picture her mother in a pool of blood, shot in the back of the head. She’d been whisked away from her school and put into protective custody the moment the bodies were discovered. She hadn’t experienced any of the violence her cousin had. But she still imagined it, every time she thought of the horrific events that brought her family down.

“Sotza pulled weight and had you across the border and into Venezuela before the feds had any idea what was happening. Their one piece of leverage against the Mexican cartel was gone. It was the one good deed I’ve seen the man do.”

Gina smiled softly. “He’s done many good things for me, for our family. He loves us… in his own way.”

Alejandro snorted. “He loved Casey’s mother, your aunt, and he fucking hates the Mexican cartel.”

Gina shook her head absently. “Love isn’t what motivates him now.” Then she looked up at Alejandro, hope and fear warring in her eyes. “Are you saying my older brother is still alive?”

He nodded sharply. “Si.” The single word held a wealth of disgust.

The hope faded from her gaze. Her brother was not only a traitor, the reason for her family’s demise, but he’d attacked Alejandro and kidnapped Gina. His death was a foregone conclusion. This was the reason Alejandro was demanding her loyalty, why he was angry. Not at Gina, but at this impossible situation. Despair bubbled up inside her until she was nearly choking on it.

“Alejandro…” she let out a sob.

“I know,” he said gruffly and hauled her onto his lap. He held her tight, tucking the blanket around her while she cried against him, soaking him in tears. He didn’t lie to her, tell her that everything would be alright. It wasn’t. She’d found out her missing brother, presumed dead, was actually alive, but he would have to die at the hands of the man she loved. “We will get through this,” he murmured against the top of her head, kissing her.

“I don’t know if we can,” she hiccoughed and snuggled under his throat. “How will I survive another loss? How will Casey? This will crush us.”

“No, it won’t,” he said, steel infusing his words. He stood with her in his arms and looked down at her. “You will be strong because you don’t have a choice. Your family is here, in Bolivia, not with a man that caved into weakness and sold you out.”

“Not me…” she protested weakly as he strode with her up the stairs.

“Everyone you know, cariña,” his voice grew harder with each step. “Just because he didn’t have the cajones to see your death through does not mean he does not bear responsibility for everything else. Your mama, your papa. Your cousin and her entire family. Do you think that Casey will care that he is blood? He is the reason that she was shot and sold to a monster. Toughen that soft heart and face reality. Your brother is not the child you once knew.”

He set Gina on her feet in the bedroom. She held the blanket against her chest and watched as he pulled a bag from the closet and began packing. Panic swelled within her. “Where are you going?”

He looked at her sharply and said, “Can’t tell you.”

She took a step back, hurt piercing her chest. “I wouldn’t betray you,” she whispered. He continued to stare at her, frowning. She raised her chin and said more clearly, “I may not be exactly what you need in a mafia wife, but I know all about family and loyalty. I know who my family is and where my loyalty lays. I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me that.”

He nodded, his face softening a little. He finished packing and pulled on some fresh clothes. Then he hugged her against his chest and said, “I’m going to Mexico. Sources have informed us that Beck is hiding out in Mexico City.”

“But isn’t it dangerous for you in Mexico?” she protested, squeezing him tight against her as though to keep him safe.

He chuckled and said, “Baby, I can handle myself. Mexico won’t be a problem.”

She nodded. “When will you be back?”

“I’ll be back when I’m done,” he answered gruffly.

He’d be back when he had Beck in custody. She felt a harsh tug in her chest and realized it had nothing to do with brother. She couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from Alejandro. “Please be careful, Alejandro,” she told him huskily, kissing the base of his throat. “Come back to me as soon as you can.”

“Always, mi amor.” He tightened his arms until she was crushed against him. “I will never stay away longer than necessary, knowing you wait for me here.”

She nodded and breathed him in, taking in his essence, cigar, soap and masculinity. Her body warmed for him again and if she didn’t know he had to leave right away, she would try to convince him to crawl into bed with her. Instead she held him for as long as he allowed and basked in the warmth of Alejandro, grateful for his love.

15

3 weeks later

“Drop it!” Gina yelped.

She heaved a sigh of relief as the muffin hit the floor and bent over to scoop it up, tossing it in the trash. She placed a new chocolate chip raspberry muffin in Casey’s palm and whirled around the side of her kitchen island to check on the batch still in the oven. They were rising beautifully, the tops baking to a lovely golden brown.

“You want to tell me what that was about?” Casey asked suspiciously, peeling the paper away from the base of her still warm muffin. She took a big bite, closing her eyes in what looked like ecstasy.

“Uh, nope,” Gina mumbled, mixing another batch in a big metal bowl.

“My god,” Casey moaned, licking her lips. “You suck at hand-to-hand combat, weapons and pretty much anything else self-defence related, but damn girl, you can bake! Can I take some up to the main house for Reyes and the housekeeping staff?”

Gina laughed, covered her hand in an oven mitt and took the trays out of the oven, making room for her next batch. She chewed her lip for a moment, staring down at them, then nodded decisively. “Uh yep, you can have these ones here. I’ll just pack them up.”

“But these ones are cool already,” Casey reached for the ones cooling on a plate next to her.

Gina whirled around and slapped her cousin’s hand with the oven mitt. “Seriously, Casey! Stop touching those ones.”

“Okay!” Casey huffed, climbing off the stool. “I’ll take the hot ones. They look better anyway.”

“It’s not like they’re actually going to make it to your staff,” Gina said smartly. “You’ll wolf these down before anyone else even knows they exist. I’ll have to send more up, straight to the kitchen.”

Casey didn’t argue. They both knew Gina was right. Casey came around the side of the counter, took the package of muffins from Gina’s hands and gave her a quick squeeze. Casey could be such a contradiction. One minute she was a holy terror and the next she was caring and empathetic, coming over to help ease Gina’s anxiety over the return of her husband and brother. Gina hadn’t seen either of them yet. Alejandro had taken Beck straight to the interrogation rooms two days earlier. Reyes had come to see Gina, to inform her that her husband was home, but unwilling to see her yet.

Gina knew why. He couldn’t face her knowing that he would have to execute her brother. With such a thing hanging over their heads she didn’t know how her marriage would proceed. How she could convince him that she belonged to him. Was loyal to him alone.

“Can I ask a favour?” she asked Casey, trying to tamp down on the desperation that threatened to erupt.

“Of course!” Casey was quick to assure her. “You never ask for anything. What is it?”

“Can you ask Reyes if I can see Beck before… before…” her voice trailed off. She felt Casey stiffen beside her and understood. Casey hated Beck. He could have stopped the massacre of two families if he’d gone to Casey’s father and told him what the Mexicans were planning; what Ignacio Hernandez, Casey’s first husband had planned. Instead he’d allowed greed to surpass family loyalty, saving only himself and Gina. Though it was useless, Gina felt survivor’s guilt, would always feel it. She was only alive because Beck had loved her as a child. “I’m not pleading for his life,” she assured Casey. “I just need to see him, see the monster responsible for so much pain and death. I need to assure my husband that I stood in front of my brother, spat on our familial connection and chose my life here, with him.”

Though Casey still looked unsure, she nodded and squeezed Gina’s arm. “I understand, I’ll speak with Reyes. I… I think they’re planning on executing him in the morning.”

“So… I’ll need to see him tonight then,” Gina said shakily.

“I’ll talk to Reyes right away,” Casey assured her. “I can’t promise he’ll allow it, but I’ll let you know either way.”

“Thank you,” Gina whispered, swallowing her tears. She didn’t mean to get so emotional. She wished she could be more stoic about things like murder and betrayal. Like Casey, who had risen up to become an incredible powerhouse, a proud mafia wife.

Gina got the call a few hours later from Reyes himself. He was brief and to the point. “You’ll have five minutes with him. After that you won’t see him again.”

It took a moment for Gina to catch her breath. He gave her that time. “Thank you,” she said sincerely, knowing it couldn’t have been an easy decision. “Will Alejandro be there?”

“Of course.”

Of course.

“No,” Alejandro said coldly. “Get back in the jeep, turn around and wait for me at home.”

Gina stared up at her formidable husband in dismay. He was wearing his military-style fatigues and his face looked as though it was carved from stone, there was no softness for his wife. She hadn’t anticipated this barrier to see the prisoner once she had permission from his boss. Of course, the prisoner and prison fell under Alejandro’s jurisdiction, so he could stop her from having this visit if he wanted.

“Please, Alejandro,” she begged him. “I need to see him.”

“No,” Alejandro said coldly, steel threading his voice, “you don’t. I’ve been back for two days and you haven’t come to see me.”

“That isn’t fair!” she cried. “I thought you were avoiding me. I didn’t want to push myself on you if you didn’t want to see me. I was trying to be…”

“What?” he demanded, pushing himself against her and backing her into a concrete wall.

She clutched the muffin tin against her chest and lifted her chin. “I was trying to be understanding. It can’t be easy hunting down the only sibling your wife has with the sole purpose of… of exterminating him. You must feel awful.”

His dark eyes pinned her. “I feel nothing,” he snapped.

“Fine,” she snapped back, stiffening her spine. “Then you won’t mind if I see the prisoner, bring him a last meal. Say my goodbye to him before you murder him. My only brother.”

His face finally softened. “Gina…”

“Please, Alejandro,” she jumped at the slight weakening. “I just need to… to see him, ask him why he did it.”

“I know why he did it, cariña. I’ve been interrogating him for days,” Alejandro growled in frustration. “He felt it was his only chance at survival. He sacrificed your entire family for himself. Everyone except you. And chances are they would’ve come after you too except Sosa got to you faster than they could’ve anticipated. Beck was supposed to die too, but he escaped the assassination squad and laid low, hiding out in Mexico, building his own resources until he could find the sister who disappeared.”

Tears threatened to ruin her moment, so she stood up straighter and lifted her chin. “Please, Alejandro,” she choked out. “Please don’t deny me the chance to see his face.”

Alejandro studied her for a moment and then jerked his chin toward the interior door. “I’ll give you five minutes, Gina. No more,” he told her, placing a hand at her back and escorting her through. “And I’m coming in with you.”

She hadn’t expected anything else. She waited, trying to calm her erratic breathing while he punched a code into a door. The door slid open, revealing a sterile room filled with metal and concrete. Inside the room was a small table with two chairs and a bench for sleeping. A man a few years older than Gina was laying on the bench. He sat up easily.

She released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and looked him over. No visible signs of torture. Beck stood, staring at Gina with disbelief and dawning happiness. She didn’t know why he would be pleased under these circumstances. He had to know he wasn’t going to be alive for much longer. His blond hair was cut short and his stormy grey eyes were bloodshot. He looked older than his thirty years. Perhaps the stress spent running and hiding for more than a decade. Even his decision to go after Alejandro and kidnap Gina couldn’t have been easy. He had to have known it was a foolish plan, likely to end in his own death. Reyes was not a man to suffer fools.

“Angelina,” he said, his deep voice pleased.

“Beck,” she said, short and clipped.

He stepped forward, reaching out as if to hug her. Alejandro stepped in between them, giving her brother such a look of loathing that the younger man stepped quickly back, raising his hands. “You don’t touch her or we end this meeting and I end you shortly thereafter. Understand?”

“Yes,” Beck said quickly.

“Sit.” Alejandro pointed at the table.

Beck obeyed. He’d either learned that crossing Alejandro wasn’t healthy or he understood the precariousness of his position. Alejandro pulled the other chair out and set it a good two feet away from the table before giving Gina the go ahead to sit. Then he stood behind her with his arms crossed, ready to strike the moment Beck said or did anything he didn’t approve of. Gina placed the muffin tin on the table and folded her hands in her lap.

“You’re very lovely, Gina,” Beck said, his voice light and his eyes shining. “I always knew you’d grow up this way. I’m so glad you came to see me.”

She frowned and struggled for several moments with conflicting emotions rushing through her. First and foremost was the need to wipe the look of adoration from his face. “You murdered our parents,” she said accusingly, cutting straight to the point. “If not directly, you were entirely responsible. You could have warned them.”

His face grew more serious though he continued to look at her with such love that she was beginning to think he might be unbalanced. “I had to do it, Gina. You were vulnerable. The cartel could get to you. They showed me how easy it would be by giving me pictures of you on your way to school. By telling them how to get to mom and dad, I was able to save you.”

Gina had to smother a gag. He was pleading with her, trying to get her to understand his actions. She shook her head. “Nothing justifies what you did. I would rather have died than betray my family. You should’ve done something.”

“I did do something,” he assured her, reaching for her. He dropped his hand when Alejandro growled. “I saved you, Gina. I saved you for myself. So we could be together.” His face darkened, and she saw the edge of selfish savagery that must have been present when he’d sold their family to the Mexican cartel. “But then I lost you. They didn’t give you to me the way they were supposed to. You went into custody and I didn’t see you again. Not until I heard you turned up in Bolivia, living with our cousin in a fucking fortress.”

Gina studied him, seeing something she hoped wasn’t possible but suspected was true. Her stomach twisted with nausea. “You were saving me for yourself?” she whispered, prompting. She felt Alejandro stiffen at her side. She was getting information out of his prisoner that he likely hadn’t been able to extract.

“Yes!” Beck nodded emphatically. “Once our parents were gone, there was nothing to stop us from being together. We could live across the border, be happy, run our own syndicate, just the way we were always meant to. No interference, no one to stand in our way.”

“Oh god,” Gina whispered, covering her face. Her brother was truly a sick man.

“Come on,” Alejandro wrapped a hand around Gina’s arm and lifted her from the chair. “Time to leave. You don’t need to hear any more.”

“Please,” she whispered, lifting wounded eyes to her husband. “Just one more moment. To eat with him. Meals were very important with our f-family and I wanted to say goodbye by breaking bread one last time. Then I can walk away without any regrets.”

She knew that she was manipulating Alejandro, saying exactly the right thing, looking at him exactly the right way to get him to comply. But they both knew that Beck wasn’t going to be any danger to her. His worshipful devotion toward her was painfully obvious. Alejandro searched her face, taking in the strain on her pale face before finally giving her a sharp nod.

“Two more minutes. You eat together and then you go. No more time, no more arguments,” he said firmly, releasing her arm.

Gina smiled as much as she could under the circumstances and brushed her hand along his arm. She felt the bunch of his muscle and then the release. His face seemed to relax slightly too, though the severe expression remained. He was truly worried about her. Her feelings toward him capturing her brother and what he would have to do next. She wanted to tell him not to worry. She turned back to the table and lifted the lid off the tin.

Beck leaned forward, his expression serene and happy. She wanted to slap him and demand he wake up to the precariousness of his position. He was an idiot for thinking he could get away with the murder of their parents, with his obsession with his younger sister. Still, he was her brother and she would observe some semblance of formality before washing her hands of him. Wrinkling her nose, she offered the tin. “Would you like to eat with me, Beckett?”

“You remembered,” he whispered, pleasure filling his voice as he took one of the muffins. “Chocolate chip raspberry. My favourite.”

Her stomach heaved in revolt as she took a muffin as well and placed the tin back on the table between them. She had not, in fact, remembered his preferences and she seriously doubted these were his favourites. At the moment, she rather thought Beck was ready to be pleased by just about anything Gina said or did. She didn’t bother offering a muffin to her husband. She knew Alejandro wasn’t interested in their custom of breaking bread, nor would he care to share a last meal with his prisoner.

Beck took a large bite of his muffin and said, “Thank you, Gina. I’m grateful they allowed you to come see me and that you were thoughtful enough to bring food. It was our family’s tradition to eat together when times were happy and when they were tough.”

She waited for him to take several more bites before setting her muffin on the table and standing. He watched her curiously as she stepped toward the table, pressing her hands against the metal. She allowed him to see every ounce of loathing she felt for him. “You dare to claim the Giancarro traditions as though they are yours?”

“Gina…” he murmured, chewing and swallowing, his eyes searching her face for compassion, but finding only anger.

“You murdered us,” she shouted at him, hitting the table with one hand and smacking her chest with the other. “You may as well have shot our parents yourself and then put a gun to my head. I was nothing without my family. A shell for so many years. Just drifting until I found Casey.”

“But you have me…” he pleaded weakly.

“I don’t want you!” she snapped hoarsely, then said, “And I don’t have you. Not anymore.”

Alejandro caught on right away, stepping forward. “What have you done, Gina?” he demanded, taking her arm and swinging her around to face him. She refused to look at her husband though, not taking her eyes off Beck as his breathing grew laboured and he struggled to remain upright in his chair. His muffin fell to the floor and he began to claw at the collar of his T-shirt.

“You should’ve told daddy or gone to our uncle the moment you knew we were under threat, you spineless coward!” her voice rose to a scream by the time she finished her sentence. “You could’ve saved us all!”

Alejandro shook her, snapping her head up until she was forced to look at him. “What the fuck did you do to him?” he yelled at her.

“I killed him!” she screamed, spinning in Alejandro’s arms, surprising him. She managed to break free for a second. She used it to her advantage, lunging across the table at her brother. She threw herself at Beck who was slumped in his chair wheezing and turning blue. They tumbled to the ground together. Beck brought his arms up, but instead of protecting himself, he wrapped them around Gina and used the last bit of strength he had to tug her head down to his, pressing his lips to hers.

“C-come with me,” he wheezed against her lips and kissed her.

Furious, Gina fought him, punching him for all she was worth. She’d wished she shoved a switchblade down her bra; she could’ve stabbed him in the eye too. Somehow Beck managed to maintain his grip on her, prolonging the kiss while the life slipped from his body. She heard Alejandro’s shout from behind them, heard the table flip against the wall, felt Alejandro’s grip around her waist as he tried to wrench her away from her brother.

Beck’s arms locked around Gina and he began convulsing, his face was rigid against hers. Grey eyes locked with grey. She tried desperately to keep her lips sealed. Alejandro finally managed to yank her away just as Beck began spitting and gagging, his blue lips peeling back in a horrified grimace as his eyes flew open in a death stare.

“You motherfucking murderer!” Gina screamed kicking out at him.

“Stop it, Gina,” Alejandro snapped, gripping her under the arms and dragging her away from the body as he succumbed to death in the grip of a massive seizure. “Look at me,” he demanded. “Did he get anything in your mouth?”

Gina elbowed Alejandro in the side, lunged against his iron hold and spit on the body of her brother. “Burn in hell, Beckett.”

16

Alejandro flung her into another room. She’d been marched through the sterile halls of the prison building in such a hurry that she couldn’t tell at all where she was until she got a good look around. His office. There was a large desk, impeccably tidy with an ashtray for his cigars. She smiled fondly, tilting her head so her hair covered her expression. He didn’t need to see the peace on her face while he was in such a towering rage.

Actually, worry was probably a more accurate emotion to describe her love. Only he didn’t know how to do worry, so anger was the next best thing, as evidenced by his next words and actions. First, he used his hand to wipe her all around her mouth, though she knew there was nothing there. Then he gripped her arms in a hard hold and snarled, “The poison, Gina. What kind?”

“Cyanide,” she told him right away and cringed when he slammed his fist into the desk next to her hip. She placed a shaking hand against his chest and said quietly, “I’ll be fine. He didn’t get any in my mouth.”

Alejandro clenched his hand in her hair and tilted her head back. His eyes were wild and his teeth were gritted when he spoke. “You made a mistake, baby. Coming into my place of work and breaking the rules, killing my prisoner right in front of me. You fucked up, you put yourself at risk.”

“But I’m fine, Alejandro,” she told him, reaching up to cup his face.

“You aren’t fine!” he snarled flinging her around to face away from him, still gripping her hair. She cried out and clutched the edge of his desk. “He put hands on you. That filth put his fucking mouth on you. On my wife. If he weren’t dead, I would disembowel him and string him up by his intestines to die slow and painful for such an infraction. No one touches mi mujer. You understand?”

He sounded half-crazed. She nodded as much as she could. “Yes, Alejandro, I understand! No one touches me!”

He slid one hand around her throat and shoved her skirt up with his other hand. “I control everything around here. Life, death… everything, Gina. If you had died…”

He tore her panties away and urged her legs apart, barely making enough room for himself as he unbuckled the front of his own pants. She cried out again and clutched at him when he lifted her with a thick arm around her waist.

“Alejandro, I’m sorry!” she whimpered, flinging her head back.

He fisted her hair, arching her throat back just as he thrust into her from behind. The act was frantic, violent, unexpected, yet intensely erotic. Gina gasped at the invasion and reached back to grip him, holding tight while he did the same, his own grip bruising where his fingers bit into her flesh. He jerked her head to the side and dropped his whiskered jaw against her throat, biting her, marking her as he drove into her.

“Not even death will steal you from me,” he growled, pinning her against the side of the desk and fucking her hard.

Gina could do nothing but take it, her hips slamming mercilessly into the hard, unyielding surface. She felt bruised and battered as he rammed into her, grunting, his hold around her ribs and throat so tight she could barely breath. She began to feel light-headed from lack of oxygen, her own hold on him growing limp.

Then he released her so abruptly, pulling out and backing away so abruptly that her knees buckled and she would have collapsed if he hadn’t caught her. He shoved the few things on his desk to the side, the ashtray hit the floor and shattered. Gina’s head was swimming as he spun her around, lifted her and set her on the desk. He shoved her back, pinning her to the desk with a hand between her breasts.

“Alejandro?” she asked weakly, then felt her skirt being shoved back up her hips. She shrieked at the first touch of his warm lips and tongue on her bruised pussy and arched into the sensation. The dual onslaught of first rough, then sweet drove her right over the edge and she came with a scream, her fingers gripping the edge of his desk.

“Ah, my baby likes that,” he growled against her, but didn’t ease his attack. Instead he thrust two fingers inside and curled them, drawing her orgasm higher. Her legs shook, and she arched back on the desk shouting while he attacked her clit with long, leisurely strokes of his tongue. She came again in a gush of fluid, soaking his hand and mouth. He stood over her, his dark eyes glinting with purpose and wiped his mouth on his sleeve before gripping her waist and dragging her to the edge of the desk.

“Please,” she groaned, reaching for him. “Alejandro.”

“Si, mi amor,” he said, his face finally softening. He entered her, softer this time, less punishing. “Anything for you. I am always yours, your love.”

Tears dripped from her eyes and down her cheeks as he gathered her in his arms and held her against his chest, moving his hips slowly, pumping himself in and out of her in long, sensual strokes, filling her completely. “Please forgive me,” she whispered against his throat, clinging to him.

He cradled her and kissed her ear, then her lips. His thrusts grew harder, more frantic. His hold became tighter, sweat beading his forehead. He held her as though she might disappear as he finished deep inside her. He continued to hold her against his chest, heart to heart, her head tucked against his neck while they calmed.

Finally, he backed up, lifting her and setting her down so she was sitting on the edge of his desk. He looked down at her, his face serious once more. He took her hand and squeezed it. “I understand why you did what you did. Why you needed to end your brother yourself. But you undermined my position and put yourself in danger.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes again before spilling over to trail gently down her cheeks.

He used his thumb to swipe a drop and stick it in his mouth. “If you were anyone else, Reyes would insist on your execution. But since you are family and my wife, he will allow me to deal with you.”

Her heart pounded hard in her chest as fear shot through her system. Not once during the entire time that she’d planned the murder of her brother had she thought of the consequences of her actions. She knew that Alejandro would be upset, but she hadn’t actually thought about punishment. That she was crossing a mob boss and his second-in-command. But even with that possibility hanging over her head, she still wouldn’t have done anything differently.

“What are you going to do?” she whispered, eyes wide, searching for mercy. Only there wasn’t any. This man was the enforcer to one of the most dangerous men in the world. And she’d knowingly crossed him.

He touched her face, gently, tracing his thumb across her jaw. “You don’t have to worry about that just yet, mi amor. You’ll find out soon enough when we discuss your new schedule and rules. For now, it is time to go home.”

Gina wanted to argue but suspected now wasn’t the time. Instead she accepted the hand he held out to her and slid off his desk. He smoothed her skirt back down. She smiled up at him and slid her hand into the curve of his arm. “Let’s go home.”

Epilogue

One year ago

Alejandro resented being put on babysitting duty. The woman had been on her own for years. There was no reason she couldn’t board an airplane and make her own way to the meeting point with her cousin. But Casey hadn’t wanted Angelina to fly alone. She’d wanted her cousin to feel taken care of, special. So, as the most trusted person on Reyes’ payroll he’d been appointed her official escort.

He stepped off the airplane and into the cool, sunny day. He brought a hand up to shade his eyes, looking around. He saw a car and assumed it must be her ride since it was the only one on the tarmac. He strode toward the vehicle just as the back door opened and a long, curvy leg slid out, then the rest of her. She gripped the edge of the door and stood, looking around uncertainly.

If he hadn’t had years of combat and military training he might have stumbled. Angelina Giancarro was perfection. From the top of her flyaway blond hair to the bottom of her heeled sandals. She clung to the car door as if she would never let go, as if it were the lifeline between her old life and her new. She watched warily as he approached, her gorgeous grey eyes taking in every inch of his dark suit and tall form. She backed up a little, bumping into the doorframe.

He took her hand, peeling it one finger at a time from the edge of the door and giving it a light squeeze. “Ms. Giancarro… Gina. It is a pleasure to meet you,” he told her, meaning every word.

“Th-thank you… Alejandro.” Her voice was soft and slightly husky. The caress of his name shot arrows of heat right through him. He’d never felt such an intense, instant connection to another person before. This was more than lust. He studied her carefully.

“Your bags?” he asked.

She cleared her throat a little and swallowed, dropping her eyes. “In the trunk.”

He leaned into the car and told the driver to open the trunk, then lifted her bags. Gina took a small carry-on and they walked toward the plane together. “Did you get a chance to finish everything you needed to?” he asked, indicating she should go ahead of him onto the airplane.

“You mean say goodbye to the friends I made, the life I created here?” she said quietly. “Because I won’t be back. We both know that. Yes, I said goodbye, made my excuses.”

Alejandro secured her luggage and turned to look at her, studying the lovely blond where she stood, poised and ready to fly to Mexico with him. He’d thought of this as nothing more than a babysitting mission. But for her, she was being torn from the life she’d created in a city, in a country that wasn’t her own, because her family had been targeted for assassination more than a decade ago. Now she was being called back. All because she’d been born into a mafia family. No one asked her what she wanted, they just told her. Yet, she wasn’t fighting fate, she was giving in gracefully.

“Are you going to be alright?” he asked gruffly, showing her to her seat. “Can I get you anything?”

She tilted her head to the side and watched him with a tiny frown as he took the seat next to hers. He hadn’t planned on being so close to her, hadn’t planned on wanting Casey’s last living relative for himself. But something primal was driving him. He needed to feel her soft body against his, catch her subtle scent as she shifted to get more comfortable in her seat.

“No, I’m fine, thank you Alejandro.”

The way she said his name wrapped right around every part of him, especially his dick, making him harder than he’d ever been in his life. And there was nothing he could do about it without scaring her, so he had to just sit there and take the torture, breathing her in, feeling her soft shoulder rubbing against his arm whenever she shifted.

He tried to engage her in conversation a few times during the flight but mostly she answered his inquiries politely and then fell silent. He sensed a timid sadness about her. Not a deep sadness or anything, but a sense of loss. The same feeling her cousin held. He suspected the two women would get along very well once they met. He just hoped they both survived the upcoming confrontation in Mexico. His gut twisted in aggravation as he thought of sending a quiet little mouse like Gina into a situation like Mexico. She wasn’t mobbed up like the rest of them, she was too soft. Too sweet. He was suddenly angry at all of them for thinking this was a good idea. Angry at himself for allowing her to get on the airplane and leave her life in London behind.

He glanced down at her. She was leaning back in her seat, with her long, slim feet propped up on the opposite seat. She was reading a book, but not a normal book. This one had pictures and word bubbles. He thought maybe it was called a graphic novel. The incongruity, the sheer innocence of her reading such a thing made his lips twitch. He vowed then that he would make damn sure she came out of Mexico alive and whole, and that she would find happiness in Bolivia.

He allowed his gaze to trail over her, taking in her long legs where the skirt of her dress had bunched up revealing her knees and a delicious amount of thigh. The curve of her breast was also visible from his angle. Her luscious lips were pursed in concentration, her fingertip tracing the pink length of her mouth. His cock hardened even more. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, uncomfortable but damned if he was going to find another seat. He was going to have to make damn sure his men knew not to go near this woman while she was staying at the compound; she was too fucking tempting by half. She tilted her head to the side and looked at him, pinning him in place as though seeing right through him, catching him in the act of fantasizing about her.

“Hey, Alejandro, do you like Spiderman?” she asked.

He grinned at her. “Sure, cariña.” He had no idea. Men in tights weren’t really his thing. But anything Gina enjoyed was about to become his thing.

She grinned back, flashing him her beautiful teeth. “I bet you’re good at finding hard to find things, aren’t you?”

He knew in that moment that he’d met his future wife.

THE END

Queen’s Move

Book 2

Contents

Prologue

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

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

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Epilogue

“I need a gangsta

To love me better

Than all the others do

To always forgive me

Ride or die with me

That’s just what gangsters do.”

Gangsta, Kehlani (Suicide Squad)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LAYgZEMMWxo

Prologue

Tony Montana had eyes like the devil, wild, hot, angry. He was absolutely wrecked. High on his own product, high on life and himself. His dark hair was a disheveled mess, the end of his crooked nose ringed in the white powder he hadn’t bothered to wipe away. His cheekbones were sharper than ever, emaciated from too much cocaine use and too little food. Not that Vee could cast stones, she was high more often than not herself. But she used so she could disappear. To make her bullshit existence feel a little less awful. And the man in front of her was to blame for at least a decade of that misery.

Had she ever loved him? She tried to remember. Think back to her wedding day, the good days, before the constant fighting and abuse. Nothing came though. If she ever loved him it was long gone now. Just a fleeting softness as she remembered his infectious grin when he was trying to win her over. Something he hadn’t shown her in years.

“Get out,” Vee said coldly.

She wasn’t talking to Tony. No, she was talking to the woman on her knees, beneath his desk, trying to suck off a flaccid dick. Vee knew from experience that cocaine did nothing for Tony in the bedroom anymore, so to speak. Back in the old days, when he still enjoyed life, the drug used to lift him up, make him feel invincible, crave Vee’s affection. Back then, sex and drugs were the only thing they had in common. Now it was just one of those. And Vee was about done with all of it.

Nobody moved, Tony’s eyes flicked to Vee and then glazed over again, unfocused. He was sprawled back in his chair, head tilted back against the leather. He lifted a ringed hand, waving it toward the door, telling her to go.

She was long past able to feel hurt over his constant rejections and mistreatments. She was pretty much numb these days. Tony never took her seriously anyway. She used to be his doll, his lovely trophy wife, now she was so much less. The hag that spent his money and screamed at him on a semi-regular basis. Not even the beatings could stop her tongue. She still had some pride, as unrecognizable as it was.

She wasn’t going to have a single problem taking out the master of all her sufferings. She was following the Bolivian cartel’s orders. It was time to bring Miami back under control, and she was going to be the woman to do it.

“I said, get the fuck out,” Vee snarled, pacing forward. She lifted the gun she’d been clutching when she sought her husband out in his office and slammed it down on his desk. The whore jumped, banging her head on the edge of the desk as she finally surfaced, peeked over to stare at Vee. “Right fucking now, unless you think this pig is worth dying for. Then, by all means, stay where you are. I’ll happily do you next.”

When the woman didn’t move fast enough Vee pointed the gun at her face. She blinked, crawled quickly out from under the desk and ran shrieking from the office, straight out the French doors and into the huge, immaculate back yard. Vee wanted to laugh at the topless bitch, but again, hypocritical. Vee’d done similar and worse, selling her looks, prostituting herself for protection. The only difference being she was pretty enough, tough enough and bitchy enough to demand a ring for her effort.

Tony ignored the gun completely. She’d handled them before and he knew better than to think his delicate blond wife was going to be any kind of threat. “Fucking unbelievable,” he grumbled, Cuban accent strong in his befuddled state. He sat up a little straighter and finally looking at her. “What the fuck you doin’ coming in here like that and scaring off my bitch? Now you need to get over here and finish me off.”

Vee laughed coldly. “We both know you aren’t even hard. Don’t act like you could’ve gotten off, even with a pretty piece of fluff like her.”

His eyes sharpened and his brow lowered. “Maybe if I didn’t have such a frigid bitch for a wife I’d bang you once in awhile. Maybe if I did that you’d quit acting like a sullen fucking piece of work, moping around the mansion all day, shopping or whatever the shit you do.”

He was definitely not going to make this hard.

“I want a divorce, Tony,” she demanded, tapping her gun against the wood.

He laughed, banging his hand on top of the desk. Maybe if he was fast enough, cared enough, he could’ve reached out and grabbed her weapon. But Tony Montana was too much of a macho man to believe his wife would actually threaten him.

“Even if we could get a divorce, we won’t. That ain’t how it works in our world and you know it as good as I do. You know too much to ever be released from our marriage. No, Vee, we’re stuck together. Until death do us part.” He snickered at his own cleverness, no doubt planning her death so he could replace her with the inflated bimbo running across the back yard.

“I was hoping you’d see it that way.” Vee smiled for the first time in a long time. “I was thinking a more permanent solution might be necessary anyway.”

She braced her legs, lifted the gun and pointed it at him. The shit-eating smirk drifted off his lips as his face twisted into an ugly, hate-filled mask. “Put the fucking gun down, Vee. I’m not going to tell you again.”

She shrugged. “You don’t need to.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he snarled, raising up from his chair and slamming his fists down onto the desk. “I’m going to beat the life out of-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Vee shot him once, clean in middle of his forehead, and once more through the heart after he was flung back into his chair. She didn’t want to risk him surviving, going comatose and becoming even more annoying than he already was. Better just to make it a clean hit.

She wasn’t worried about Tony’s protection detail. They were either being eliminated or surrendering to the Bolivian’s second-in-command, Alejandro. Vee’s only job was to cut off the head of the snake. A symbolic action that would help solidify her leadership as the new Queen of Miami’s mafia.

Looking dispassionately at her dead husband’s body, she felt strong, she felt powerful… she felt relieved. Her legs folded underneath her and she collapsed to the floor, one hand still clutching the gun while the other gripped the edge of the desk. She folded in on herself, allowing herself this one single moment to just feel. To finally feel.

1

One year later

Vee woke with a start, gun in hand. She expected to see her dead husband standing over her, ready to exact bloody retribution. Chest heaving, eyes wide in the darkness of her bedroom, she once more struggled to banish his ghost as her dream washed away in the reality of late morning. She shoved white blond hair off her forehead and scrambled for the vibrating phone that had woken her up. She kept it on or near her pillow when she slept. It must have fallen into the folds of her blankets when she’d gotten trapped in the hell of her nightmare.

Luckily the iPhone didn’t stop vibrating so she was able to locate it quickly and check the caller ID. Casey Reyes. Vee closed her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. Normally she would love getting a call from this woman, but today was going to be an exception.

Vee swung her legs over the side of the bed and answered, her voice husky, “Hello Casey.”

“Vee! My god, are you okay?” Casey asked, her voice higher pitched than usual, concern reverberating through her tone.

Vee’s lips pulled into a tight smile. At least one of the Bolivians cared enough to check on her health before they sent a hit squad over the fiasco that was last night. “I’m okay,” she answered, looking down at the bandage covering her arm and wincing a little. Now that she was up and moving, the slash wound was definitely making itself known. “Fuckers in this town are savages, Casey. No respect for a lady just trying to do a little business.”

There was silence for a moment and then Casey said quietly, “Tell me about it.”

Vee sighed and made her way to the washroom for a quick pee. She hoped Casey wouldn’t be able to hear, but seriously, if girl was going to wake her up after a night like last night and then demand answers, then she was going to have to deal with a little nature. Vee pulled her panties and satin pyjama pants down and got to business in both senses of the word. “Same old. It’s the Mexicans acting up again, taking a swipe at my authority in my town. Bastards simply refuse to settle into the new way of life around here. I’m running this city with an iron fist, yet those guys will not bow down to a woman.”

“This is the third time, Vee. The third time they’ve questioned your authority and the third lost shipment,” Casey said, her voice catching with worry. “I know you’re tough as nails, but what if they get in a lucky shot? I don’t want to lose you, babe.”

Vee finished up and washed her hands before making her way to the kitchen. She set the kettle on the stove to boil. A little old-fashioned, but then, she was an old-fashioned girl at heart and coffee was no longer an option.

“I’ll be fine,” Vee replied, wandering to the window of her condo and gazing at the ocean stretching out as far as she could see. The sight never failed to soothe. “Everyone else is falling into line. It’s just some of these Latin guys refuse to see a woman as equal. I can handle the bullshit. I handled last night.”

“Were you able to put them down decisively this time?”

Vee squeezed the phone tight and pictured the pig that had slashed her. Her guy had held him down while she put a bullet in his head. Her smile turned feral. “I got a few.”

Casey sighed irritably. “But not the cause of all this trouble.”

“No,” Vee acknowledged and turned back to the stove to pull the hissing kettle off the heat. She poured hot water over the herbs in her tea strainer and enjoyed the simple pleasure of peach berry aroma teasing her senses. “I can’t get to him from up here and my hold on the city is too tenuous for me to leave and go hunting.”

“I understand,” Casey said.

And Vee knew that Casey Reyes did understand. Women in their world, the mafia world, held precarious positions. Though she was a wife, Casey was also a partner and a powerhouse in her own right. Her husband built her up and set her up at his side as his queen. Then Casey had convinced him to set Vee up as their Miami contact and distributer on the East Coast. The catch? Vee’s husband had to go.

Not a big deal. He was a useless, waste of space fuck with no good head for business. She’d been running most of his operation in the shadows for years anyway. But convincing Tony’s contacts to trust her after she’d done the bloody deed? Now that had taken some work. She was ruthless though, and with an army at her back she’d taken control of the city. The only problem had come in the form of the Mexican cartel.

“But your husband doesn’t understand,” Vee said, her voice hard. She tapped the tea strainer against the edge of the cup to catch the extra drops and tossed it in the sink.

Casey sighed. “He’s sending someone.”

Fuck.

Vee’s arm throbbed viciously as she thought of the type of guy Reyes would send to her city and she nearly dropped her cup. She rested her elbow on the edge of the counter and counted slowly to ten, taking deep breaths to steady herself. Casey remained silent, giving her time. God bless this girl. They really did understand each other, despite nearly a decade difference in age.

Vee opened her eyes and made her way back to the calming picturesque view, clearly visible from the balcony window. The sparkling ocean, sometimes lazy and drifting, sometimes angry and choppy, always soothed her riotous emotions. The reason she lived here, in a secret location, rather than the mansion she’d shared with her husband. Most still believed she lived there. She preferred it that way. She blew on the tea, took a tentative sip and grimaced. God, how she missed coffee. But she no longer used mind-altering substances of any kind. Not even caffeine.

“Alejandro,” she finally said, trying to keep her voice cool and steady.

She didn’t want the Bolivian’s second-in-command in her city. He was brutal, bossy and Latin to his core. He would come in and get right in her business, tear her operation apart looking for flaws. He would find none. But he would piss her off in the process. She would have to keep her head and allow it if she wanted to stay on Reyes’ good side. Then she would have to team up with the big Bolivian and allow his help with getting Mexico in line.

The thought of needing anyone’s help made her grit her teeth. It was time’s like this that she wished she’d been born a man. She was better at this job than any man she’d ever met, yet because she was a woman she had to constantly fight and claw her way through the vicious underbelly of Miami. And just when she thought she’d landed in a sweet spot, the goddamn Mexican cartel managed to back her into a corner… again.

“Not Alejandro,” Casey told her.

“Who then?” Vee demanded, surprised.

Casey paused, clearly not wanting to say. Damn, this was bad. If not Alejandro, then who were the Bolivians sending to secure their American investment? She could feel sweat beginning to form in her palms.

“Just tell me,” she said tonelessly.

“Sotza.”

Vee’s heart stopped. Blindly she set her teacup down and reached for the sofa, falling onto it in a heap. Fuck. She was so fucked.

“The Gentleman Butcher,” she breathed, not even realizing she spoke the words out loud.

“I wouldn’t recommend you call him that to his face, Vee,” Casey said drily. “He doesn’t have much tolerance for nicknames.”

Vee’s head spun and she had to put her face on her knees so she wouldn’t pass out. She forced her whirling mind to focus. She needed a clear brain for this new development. Life had just become very, very dangerous.

“This is bad, Casey,” she finally said.

“I know,” the other woman acknowledged. “I tried to talk him out of it.”

Him being Reyes. They both knew that despite Casey’s position at his side, when Reyes made a decision he was immoveable. He clearly didn’t like the way the Mexicans kept handing Vee her ass and he was going to make sure it didn’t happen again. But sending The Butcher to her city…

“He hasn’t stepped foot on this continent since…” she trailed off realizing the effect her words could have on her friend.

“Since my mother died,” Casey finished for her. “He’s over it, Vee. He’s been over it for a long time and he’s ready to stamp territory again. He’s quiet but deadly. You need to be so, so careful, hon.”

Vee laughed a little hysterically. “Don’t I know it! He was cutting a bloody path through everything South of the border when I was still in pigtails. The stories I’ve heard… they make even my blood run cold and I don’t scare easily.”

“He’s not such a bad guy,” Casey said as brightly as she could. “I like him.”

“That’s because you are your mother’s daughter, baby girl,” Vee said sarcastically. “I’m just the bitch standing between him and the Miami gateway.” She grew serious. “And your husband is sending him after me.”

“I’m sorry,” Casey whispered.

“I’m about to become deposed, aren’t I?” Vee’s voice broke a little.

Casey didn’t say anything for a moment and then, “Don’t get dead, Vee.”

She laughed bitterly. “No promises.”

2

The Gentleman Butcher.

That was what the locals called him. Not to his face, of course. He found the moniker amusing. If he hadn’t then it wouldn’t have stuck around for as long as it did. He supposed it suited him. He did get his hands dirty, when the occasion necessitated his special brand of intervention. And he was particular; in some ways quite fastidious. What was the point in wearing a $10,000 suit if it was going to get covered in gore? So, he’d developed a habit of removing his suit jacket and tie, rolling up his sleeves and then torturing his victims brutally, ruthlessly while spraying as little blood as possible. His methods had become well known and earned him the nickname of Gentleman despite his being anything but.

He certainly did not feel the gentleman when it came to a certain woman he was supposed to be meeting with. He glanced impatiently at his watch. She was eight minutes late. He’d already planned on removing her, but the disrespect she was showing would earn her some time in his dungeon first. He’d intended on making it quick in deference to her gender and the aforementioned nickname. But, apparently, she was not going to play nice.

Too bad. She hadn’t been doing a terrible job of handling Miami. But South America couldn’t lose their foothold to the Mexicans and she didn’t have the strength to hold out. Now it was up to Sotza to act decisively and brutally to make sure this gateway to their international trade on the East Coast wasn’t compromised due to her poor handling of Mexico. She should have asked for help when she had the chance. She hadn’t. Now she would have to go.

Sotza had no interest in taking over Miami for Reyes. He was simply doing the man a favour. And it was time for him to visit this strange and beautiful country again. He’d let it go far too long. Time to take back some territory and re-establish his reputation as The Butcher among the Americans before they forgot who he was.

His gaze flicked to the front door of the club; an establishment Reyes inherited from Hernandez during the Miami takeover. An interesting place to meet. Ladies choice, of course. She wanted to meet in public. Smart but ultimately pointless. He was more than capable of getting to her if and when he wanted. He saw her the moment she stepped foot in the door, flanked by two dark-suited bodyguards.

As she walked into the club, she had to blink away the bright Miami sun before she could take stock of her surroundings. He had the advantage of being able to study her for a moment before she caught sight of him. Stunning was too weak a word to describe the Miami madam. She was utterly breathtaking. She certainly stole his breath. Something no woman had done to him. Ever.

It was an… uncomfortable sensation that had him resisting the urge to lift a palm to his chest and rub. She turned her head, her severely cut shoulder-length white blond hair moving with her. Once her eyes settled on him and his men, she moved through the club with detached ease despite knowing exactly who he was and why he was there. She wasn’t stupid, and neither was Casey Reyes. This woman had to have been warned. She should be in another country by now, running as far and as fast as she could get. Yet, here she was, meeting with the man that intended to take her throne. She was an astonishingly brave woman.

The feeling in his chest intensified as she approached his table, leaving him momentarily speechless and unable to stand for a greeting. She narrowed her darkly-tinted lashes, perceiving an insult in his refusal to stand. She remained silent and refused to sit, putting them in a wordless standoff. So, he sat and studied her while he attempted to regain his equilibrium. Her clothes, face, hair, nails and shoes were all very deliberately chosen. She wore a high-waisted white pencil skirt that stopped just above her knee. She paired it with a sleeveless rose-coloured silk blouse that sat high on her neck. Her jewelry was a basic silver chain, diamond studs and a gold band on the middle finger of her right hand. Everything about her was understated, basic, but expensive and elegant.

Except her shoes. She wore sky-high silver stilettoes with solid steel heels that ended in an unusually sharp point. Sotza could feel the blood begin to pound through his body and, without conscious thought, he stood, towering over his prey. Even though she wore five-inch stilettos he was still a good half foot taller than her.

“Elvira Montana,” he finally said, keeping his voice low and cool. He gave her his hand. He was a little surprised, given his seeming snub when she first walked up to him, that she took it without hesitation, putting her much smaller hand in his and squeezing. He wanted to hold it longer, experience the texture of her skin, press his thumb against her fine bones and feel the beat of her pulse. But she pulled her hand quickly back.

“Vee,” she said in a pleasantly husky voice.

He raised an eyebrow. “Pardon me?”

“Please, call me Vee,” she corrected him. “I despise both the names Elvira and Montana. So please, just call me Vee.”

He nodded, his gaze sliding over her, down and then up until finally their eyes met. Ice. Cold. Incomparable, diamond-hard blue. Her face was smooth, flawless, giving away none of her thoughts. He wanted her on her knees pleading for her life, a life that belonged to him now, those ice chip eyes turned liquid with fear. Yet… he also wanted her in a bed, naked, eyes on fire, begging for the release only he could give her.

He allowed none of his thoughts to touch his face. He’d learned long ago never to allow the enemy to see an emotion until the time was right; usually seconds before death. Elvira clearly had the same training. Her eyes were dead as the grave. Pride swelled in his chest at the way she handled him, alongside the lust and the desire to stamp ownership all over this woman. At his age, he was neither going to question these urges nor go against what instinct was telling him.

His plans had changed. Elvira Montana was no longer going to become a casualty of the upcoming war. The Butcher was about to steal a queen.

3

Three weeks later

Sotza was waging war in her city. And he was winning.

Vee paced the floor of her office, steel heels tapping impatiently against the marble as she waited for her second-in-command to make an appearance. The back of her white silk blouse fluttered when she turned sharply, making her way back across the pale hardness of the floor toward the opposite wall. The aura of subdued violence surrounding her was unmistakeable. Like a caged tiger, she was ready to hunt and dismember her prey. Only she had no idea where the fucker was hiding.

After their initial meeting when battle lines had been drawn, they had gone their separate ways and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the Gentleman Butcher. Though his presence lingered throughout the city as her contacts fell one by one, whether through clever negotiation, or, when that hadn’t worked, brutal persuasion. Sotza was making a very clear impression in the Miami underground. There was a new commander in town.

She wanted to gut the man, dance on his spilling entrails and laugh like a loon while she did it. She’d never felt this kind of all-consuming rage before. Not even during the years of humiliating abuse she’d suffered at Tony’s hands. And that had really been something. She’d learned cool poise and the ability to conduct herself perfectly in all circumstances while under Tony Montana’s regime. She became the ultimate ice queen, never allowing anything to touch her. And now Sotza walks into her city and takes over, makes the entire East Coast hub roll over, without so much as a by-your-leave.

She wanted the man dead more than she’d even wanted Tony dead. And that was saying something considering that by the end Tony had been her least favourite person on the planet.

Vee had even tried to enlist Casey’s help, knowing the phone call would prove useless. But desperate time’s… Sure enough, Casey apologized and told her that she’d already tried to get Reyes to call off the Venezuelan, but he was firm. Reyes wanted Miami under new leadership. Vee had been given her chance and she’d fucked it up by letting the Mexicans humiliate her.

Casey had ended the call echoing her previous advice. “Don’t get dead.”

No promises.

The Butcher had no mercy. He was certainly showing her city none as he cut a bloody swathe through it while staking his claim. The increased violence was noticed by everyone, not just the underworld. News channels reported on gang wars throughout the area. Soon Sotza would tire of the battles and come knocking on her door to finish the war. Though she was well-armed with a veritable army at her disposal, she knew the man well enough to know it likely wouldn’t be enough. He was a ghost. If and when he wanted her dead, she would get dead.

The fingers she had crossed over her arms tightened until her long, coral-tinted nails nearly pierced skin, reminding her that, for the time being, she was still alive. She would make the most of her remaining time. She wouldn’t go out like her husband, arrogant on his throne, a weak shadow of his former self. She would die the way she lived, cool and proud to the end, fighting for her place. No regrets.

A loud knock interrupted her grim thoughts. Expecting this particular company, she made her way behind the large, ornate desk and called clearly and sharply, “Come.”

Danny Russo, her second-in-command, entered the room, his face expressionless. Stocky and muscular, loyal to the last bone in his body, Danny was the man behind much of her success in Miami. Accompanying him was another of her men and between them a somewhat roughed up, shaken half-Cuban who looked as though he would prefer to be anywhere but in the Montana mansion, facing the wrath of the Montana widow as she stood to confront him, a letter knife held delicately between her fingers.

She nodded toward a guest chair and then sighed a little. She really didn’t want to have this demonstration in the house, but, as she was going to allow Luis to leave the mansion alive, she didn’t want him seeing anything beyond her spacious office. Perhaps she should have gone down to her dockyards. No, not hers anymore. Sotza’s now. But Danny had deemed the docks too much of a risk. She wanted to show Sotza that she still had power in this city, despite his seeming invincibility. Her people had picked up the head of shipping security himself. The man she’d been bribing for years to help bring her shipments in.

“You’ve disappointed me, Luis,” she said, ice dripping from every word. The man shuddered and shook his head, opening his mouth to lie to her. Vee cut him off. “I’m not interested in listening to your snivelling bullshit. I’m having a bad few weeks and the last thing I wanted to hear today was that the dockyard fell without so much as a single spilled drop of blood.”

“Please, Mrs. Montana!” Luis blubbered as she rounded the desk toward him. He would have stood, but Danny held him with a hand on his shoulder. “It ain’t like that. H-he threatened us. The Butcher, you know? He told us our lives and the lives of our families were as good as dead unless we gave up the shipments and manifests. We didn’t have a choice!”

“And you didn’t think your lives would be just as dead if you did?” Vee asked sharply. Without waiting for an answer, she gripped the sharp letter opener in both hands and plunged it down into his leg, just above the knee.

Luis screamed and tried to clutch the knife, but Danny held his arms from behind. Vee pulled the knife out, ignoring the drops of blood that splattered across the hem of her shirt. She held the tip against his neck and snapped loudly, “Shut the fuck up so I can speak.”

Luis brought himself under control, sweat streaking from his hairline, his wild eyes on hers. Finally, he nodded slightly, though it was clear he was trying not to pass out. She sighed and rolled her eyes. She despised weak men and this one could barely handle a little stabbing. She really should put him out of his misery and try the next dockyard security expert.

“I’m going to do you a favour, Luis,” she told him a cool voice. “I’m going to give you another chance to prove your loyalty to me and mine. Only this time you aren’t going to fuck it up or I’ll be giving you a whole lot more than this little scratch. You understand?”

Luis nodded frantically. “Yes, thank you, Mrs. Montana. You won’t regret it.”

She was already regretting it. Her fingers twitched with the effort not the plunge the blade through his eyeball. But she needed him alive. He was the only one who knew exactly when and where her shipments were coming in. She needed that cargo to prove her value to the Bolivians if she was going to stand any chance at survival.

“You’re going to redirect the ships holding my cargo containers to new pickup locations, yes?” She arched an eyebrow until it met her severely cut bangs. “And then you will only tell my man, Danny here, where those locations are. Are we quite clear?”

He nodded quickly until she was sure there were spots swimming in his vision from blood loss. She’d been careful not to nick an artery, but the letter opener wasn’t small. He now had a quarter-sized hole in his leg. “Quite clear, quite clear!”

“Good,” she snapped, straightening. She held the hand with the knife low at her side. “Because if we have to have this conversation again, Luis, I can assure you, it won’t be under such pleasant circumstances.”

Vee watched as his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. She knew what he saw, what he was thinking. The beautiful madam of Miami, standing in all her glory in front of him, wearing a white, now blood-splattered blouse, black pencil skirt and silver stilettos. The almost matronly pearls she wore at her throat oddly out of place, yet also very much a part of her look.

She crossed to the other side of her desk, set the knife down, then coldly dismissed him. “You may leave.”

The look she shot Danny told him that their guest didn’t need to get back to the dockyards comfortably. She turned her back on the trio and took a few steps to the window while they exited the office. Damn it, now she’d have to get a cleaner in for the floor and chair. She hated doing business indoors.

4

Something woke her up. Vee knew better than to question her instincts, they were honed to perfection. She took immediate action, rolling across her bed, one hand reaching for her phone and the other for her revolver. She wasted a few precious seconds to shock when both hands came up empty. Someone had searched the bed while she was asleep in it and had taken both items.

Fuck.

Somehow, someone had managed to bypass her bodyguards and her security to make it into her bedroom. She knew exactly who was capable of such a deed. And she was pretty sure if he was finally here, that he’d decided it was her time to die.

“I won’t go down easy,” she said into the darkness, pleased to note that she managed to keep her voice as coolly steady as always. No point turning into a snivelling coward now. She’d faced worse and kept her shit together. She remained frozen, kneeling on her bed, listening.

His sinister chuckle seemed to echo through the room. She couldn’t tell over her own terror and the pounding of her heart where exactly he was standing. She had no gun, no way to defend herself if he attacked. A click startled her, and lamplight filled the room blinding her for a few precious seconds. Still, she moved her head to the side expecting to see his tall shadowed form standing next to the lamp.

“Wouldn’t be much fun if you didn’t put up a fight,” he said from the end of the bed.

How the fuck had he gotten there so fast?

Vee’s head swiveled toward his voice and she blinked a few times until she could see him properly. That voice never failed to send shivers skittering down her spine. The clipped British accent told her he’d either gone to boarding school in England or been tutored by a Brit. Not the standard for Spanish speakers below the border unless they came from money.

He stood a few feet from her, his gaze fixed on her. Every dark hair on his head was perfectly in place, silver touching his temples and sideburns. He was dressed impeccably, expensive suit, fitted perfectly to his tall, muscular frame. He’d taken the jacket off though, removed the tie and rolled the sleeves up. Not a good sign when the Gentleman Butcher made himself more comfortable.

She lifted her gaze to meet his. She was shocked by the warmth in his expression. Was he toying with her? Where was his death mask, his impassivity? Who looked so fucking friendly just before they destroyed someone. She expected her executioner’s face to reflect something a little closer to death or emotionlessness at the very least. Instead his dark brown eyes almost glowed from beneath lowered eyebrows as they took in her dishevelled appearance. She’d been so tired from trying and failing to bring the dockyard back under her control that she’d stripped out of her clothes and pulled on her satin pyjama top over a pair of panties and fallen into bed. A few buttons had come undone while she was sleeping and the top now slid down one shoulder.

Damn, she hated being anything less than professional. And her hair must be a complete mess. She hadn’t even washed yesterday’s makeup from her face. Mascara would be smudged beneath her lids, giving her a raccoon-like appearance. She heaved an annoyed sigh and shoved a hand though her hair, upending her bangs. “Can we please get on with this execution? At least then I’ll be able to get a little sleep.”

His lips pressed into a flat line and his nostrils flared a little, clearly unamused by her flippancy. Well score one for the dead girl breathing, she thought, expecting to feel the sharp edge of his blade at any moment.

“I didn’t come here to take your life,” he said, the edge to his voice letting her know that she needed to tread carefully lest he change his mind.

“Why are you here then?” She tried to freeze him out with her tone as she pulled at her pyjama top in an attempt to cover more skin. His eyes tracked the movement. She shivered as though he’d actually touched her, then dropped her hand.

“I brought gifts.” He bent to retrieve something. She tensed, ready to roll off the bed and flee. Not that she would make it far, but she was certainly going to try if he did anything she deemed even slightly murdery. Instead, he straightened and set two boxes on the bed in front of her kneeling form. One was bigger, about the size of her pillow and the other much smaller, the size of the palm of her hand. “Open the larger one first.”

Hands shaking, she reached for the larger box, pulling it toward her. It was a perfectly square, white box wrapped with a red ribbon. It was heavy, heavier than she expected and something inside rustled when she moved it. She glanced up. Sotza’s expression had gone flat, empty, dead. Whatever was in this box was business.

Heart pounding, Vee tensed her body, knowing she wasn’t going to like his ‘gift’ but with no other choice she pulled the ribbon. The bow unravelled under her trembling fingers, falling easily away. Vee stared into Sotza’s eyes as she lifted the lid. His eyes lit with feral satisfaction as the smell of death was released from the box. Her nose automatically wrinkled at the foul odor and she forced herself to look down.

She’d known what was in the box before she opened it. If the prick was expecting her to break into hysterics and cower, he was about to be sadly disappointed. She remained perfectly motionless except to tap one long coral-tipped fingernail against the edge of the box as she forced herself to look at the grisly contents. After a long moment, when she thought an appropriate amount of time had passed, she lifted her chin and gave Sotza an impertinent stare, arching her eyebrow.

“Oh dear,” she said in her chilliest voice. “It appears I’ll have to find a new contact at the dockyard.”

She glanced back down at Luis’ severed head, nestled in a cocoon of bloody plastic, his sightless cloudy eyes staring at nothing. “Pity,” she continued. “I despised his weakness but enjoyed the benefits of having someone on the inside.”

Sotza chuckled, amused by her studied indifference as she replaced the lid on her ‘gift’ and set the package aside. She eyed him wondering if he’d done the deed himself. Then she decided he had. He’d delivered the package personally, a message to let her know that her interference in the city he was systematically taking over would not be tolerated. He’d somehow found out about her meeting with Luis that morning and intercepted the man, perhaps thinking she needed a lesson in understanding that his nickname of Butcher was well deserved in case anyone had doubts.

“Open the other package,” he said, his deep voice becoming a caress.

She looked up at him sharply, noting the intimacy. Not something she was expecting and definitely not something she was used to hearing. Men had become her subordinates, not her equal and definitely not her lover or master.

She reached for the box. It was also perfectly square, though much smaller than the other. Shaped exactly like the other box with a tiny pink ribbon wrapped around it. She was relieved that the ribbon wasn’t red like the box containing Luis’ head. Using the tips of her fingernails she pulled at the edge of the ribbon until it came apart in her hands. She pulled the lid off the box. Inside was another box, a jeweler’s box. Was it a severed finger?

Frowning, she glanced up at Sotza who was watching her with a new intensity. The light from her lamp cast his face into angles, caressing his high, sharp cheekbones and sculpted lips. Sotza was an extremely elegant, handsome man, but only in the same way one might consider Lucifer good-looking. He was also the most terrifying, chilling man she’d ever had the misfortune to meet.

“Open it,” he demanded, his voice holding an edge of impatience, telling her she had no choice.

Vee had no idea what to expect, but his countenance, his very presence in her bedroom told her that whatever was in this box would alter the course of her life. However short that life may be. She pried open the lid and dropped her gaze. Icy denial rushed through her, crashing into heart-stopping reason. She knew what this was… yet it couldn’t be possible.

She pulled the stunning engagement ring from the box and held it up, her eyebrows disappearing into her bangs. She knew enough about jewelry to know that this was top of the line, worth probably close to a half million dollars. A light pink diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds set in a white gold band. Her heart thumped a crazy rhythm as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

Far from murdering her in her bed, Sotza was… proposing to her? No, that wasn’t right. The Butcher wasn’t the type of man to ask anyone anything. He took what he wanted, just as he was taking Miami. But Vee wasn’t free for the taking. She would never marry again, never again be under the control of another human being.

She stared at him in dismay, a frown creasing her forehead, the ring held out in her fingertips like it was poison. “What does this mean?” she asked hoarsely.

“I’m declaring my intentions,” he said, the intimacy in his tone unmistakable now, despite the old-world language he used.

“No!” she said immediately. “You can’t.”

He stepped up to the bed and reached for her. If Vee had the wits left in her head for self-preservation she would have fled. But shock held her rooted to the bed. He took her wrist in a firm hold, his long, warm fingers banding around her, holding her still while he took the ring from her. He flipped her hand over and pushed the ring onto the third finger. It was a perfect fit. Of course.

With a gasp she tried to tug her hand away, but he held her firm, the steel in his hold translating to his face, turning their encounter into something much deadlier. She stopped struggling, holding perfectly still. He dominated her with that single touch, his tall body leaning over hers, folded on the bed. She tried to lean away but he followed her, catching the back of her head with his other hand and forcing her to remain in his grip. She could feel the strength running through his solid body, though he touched her only with his hands.

He leaned until his face hovered over hers and she could see the gold flecks in the dark brown depths of his eyes. She shivered under the sinister onslaught of The Butcher’s perusal. His voice vibrated with authority when he spoke. “This ring does not come off. You understand?”

Vee stared back, her blue eyes icy as the arctic. She refused to speak. Refused to acknowledge his edict. His fingers clenched in the back of her hair, catching the fine strands and tugging. He dropped his lips to hers, startling her with a quick, hard kiss. It was just the press of his closed mouth against hers, opened slightly in a gasp of surprise. It shouldn’t have been erotic, yet somehow, it sent lightning bolts zinging through her body sparking an awareness she hadn’t felt in years. Perhaps never. Her eyes flew open before he pulled away. His gaze met hers and she saw satisfaction burning there.

He spoke barely an inch away from her mouth, his warm breath marking her. “Take that ring off and there will be consequences, Vee.”

He released her, allowing her to collapse back onto the bed. She landed palms down on all fours. She knew the position looked sexual, that he could see her underwear; caught the flash of lustful heat in his gaze before he shuttered it. He scooped up the larger of the boxes and headed out the bedroom door. Vee scrambled off the bed and followed him.

She was extremely conscious of her bare legs but wanted to keep eyes on her deadly intruder at all times. He set the box down on her kitchen island and turned back to her, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe in one heated glance. She shivered and crossed her arms. Then uncrossed them, aware that the hem off her nightshirt rode up the edge of her thighs when she did that.

“I’ll be in touch,” he told her and left through the front door of her condo, resetting her alarm system. Vee gaped after him. Belatedly, she wondered what the hell had happened to her bodyguards? She hoped they weren’t dead.

God, what had she done to deserve this? Comeuppance perhaps for murdering her first husband without a shred of remorse. Now she would be forced into the company of the devil himself?

And what the fuck was wrong with Sotza anyway? Who decided they wanted to get married after a single meeting? To the woman he’s supposed to dispose of. The whole concept was bizarre and crazy. But she knew enough about the man that he would be determined once he set a course of action. If he wanted Vee to become his wife, he would do everything in his power to make it happen.

And she was going to do anything and everything she could to get herself out of this sham of an engagement and reclaim her city. Perhaps if he imagined himself in love, or something equally ridiculous, she could eventually get close enough to kill him.

Looking down at the ring that adorned her left hand, Vee did the one thing she knew would declare all-out war with the terrifying man who had just staked his claim on her. She slid the ring off her finger and placed it deliberately on the counter, then turned and stomped back to bed. She would deal with Luis, or what was left of him, and the ring and in the morning.

5

Sotza went to ground while Vee spent the next few weeks desperately plotting ways to keep her city safe from him. She sensed him orchestrating her downfall, manoeuvering each player, each hub, playing a chess game with a foregone conclusion. He planned and executed like the ruler of an oppressed kingdom, as though born and bred to destabilize an entire regime without the worry of tarnish to his crown. Which was exactly what he was; born to be king.

Vee knew it was him stamping his presence all over her city, even if no one else actually saw The Butcher and lived to tell. Other gangs, cartel guys and wannabe kingpins working within Miami toppled as his men moved, cleaning house. They rarely touched Vee’s holdings, except for the dockyard. It was whispered throughout the city, among Vee’s rivals, that she and Sotza had set up a partnership. She knew better. The ruthless cartel boss was just saving her for last. Everyone else was the fucking main course. She was to be his dessert.

“We have to take the dockyard back; it’s a key gateway between Miami and most foreign markets,” Danny explained, a map of the dockyard spread between him and Vee. “The water isn’t near as regulated as air and land.”

Vee nodded in agreement. She knew all that. “Won’t he expect retaliation? He’ll know I’m coming for it.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “It’s been a few weeks and security seems to have gotten lax. He probably thinks you’re giving it up for now and focusing effort on tightening security on your other investments, yeah? Plus, he’s concentrating on the Cubans at the moment. I’m telling you, boss, now is the time to strike. Tonight.”

She nodded thoughtfully a slight frown creasing her brows. Sotza didn’t seem like the type to let security go lax around a key point. He was not a stupid man by any stretch. So, what was he playing at? But, Danny was also correct. They needed to strike while Sotza was looking the opposite way. If they could somehow bring the Venezuelans to their knees she would stand a fighting chance.

“Okay,” Vee agreed, nodding sharply. “We go in tonight. But we go in quiet, as little noise as possible. Take them out one at a time if we can, just in case this is some kind of trick to draw us in.”

“Vee…” he started to say.

“I’m going,” she snapped, cutting him off. “Non-negotiable. I’ll meet you in a few hours. Have an entry plan ready for us and several exit plans in case anything happens. Bring as many guys as you think we’ll need, but make sure they know how I want this going down. No mistakes, no casualties, you hear me?”

He nodded, his face set in grim lines as he turned away. She sighed and left him to let himself out, going to her room to see what she had for stealthy dockyard takeover wear. Though he balked, Danny understood that she needed to be present for business meetings and such. But he absolutely despised when she insisted on joining the men for combat situations. Too fucking bad, she was the boss. She refused to send her people into places and situations she wouldn’t enter into herself. She may not be as combat ready as most of the men on her payroll, but she was fast, and she had a few tricks up her sleeve.

6

Stumbling from her front door into her kitchen, Vee snatched up a clean glass from the sink and twisted the tap for cold water, desperately wishing she had something stronger in her house. The dried blood on her skin smeared across the glass as her hands became wet. She didn’t bother to wash it away. What was the point? She had so much blood on her hands, what was a few drops more?

She placed a shaking hand on her forehead, smearing more blood on her face and in her hair, as she drank the entire glass of water. It quenched her thirst and helped to steady her a little. Lowering the glass, she filled it once more, this time drinking with a little more grace and less of the desperation she’d been feeling since she flung herself in her Maserati at the dockyard and drove home.

She hadn’t turned on any lights when she came in, preferring the shadows. It was what she did, lived in the dark. At first it had been a reaction to her circumstances, constantly hiding, knowing that enemies could see her if she surrounded herself by light. Then she got used to the dark, treating it like an old friend. So much so, she no longer needed light to forge a path in her home.

Placing her glass on the counter she reached down and unzipped first one boot, then the other, allowing them to fall to the floor. She was usually a tidy person, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about where her things landed right at the moment. Not when lives had been lost. When her own life hung precariously in the balance.

She opened her hoodie and allowed it to fall from her shoulders, leaving her dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, a black spaghetti strap tank and bare feet. She picked up the water and walked to the balcony. Opening the door, she stepped outside into the cool Miami breeze. She shivered but made no attempt to cover her bare arms. She welcomed the chill. Since she stopped using drugs she learned to enjoy simple things, like the sharpness of tactile sensations. Even though some were less pleasant than others she still welcomed them.

Vee took several deep, calming breaths, using the crisp ocean breeze to cleanse her lungs and clear her head. She wished she could go for a swim in the dark pounding surf. Would’ve except security would follow her down, watch her, wonder what she was thinking. Appearance was everything for a female mob boss, she couldn’t afford to appear anything less than completely put together. She hated that she was so rattled. Her usual calm obliterated in the face of an enemy that that was superior in every way. He had more men, more guns, more skill.

She was going to lose this war.

He’d been waiting at the dockyard. Waiting for her counter-attack. They’d been surrounded, had to fight their way out. The only thing that saved them was Sotza’s reluctance to let Vee die. Once she realized none of his men were aiming anywhere near her she yelled for her own crew to get behind her. It was a ballsy move. And her guys had been reluctant to hide behind her, the woman they’d sworn to protect.

“I’ll fucking shoot you myself if you don’t do as I say!” she screamed her frustration until they fell in around her, surrounding the boss as she demanded. The dockyard had fallen eerily silent after that, Sotza’s guys refusing to engage as long as a bullet might hit her. Smoke from flares was thick in the air. Sotza’s side had thrown them in a bid to confuse and scatter her crew.

“Come out where I can see you, you coward!” she shouted into the dark stillness.

She felt the tension of her guys as footsteps echoed through the yard. The heels of his shoes striking the pavement. He moved where she could see him, but not close enough for her to do the damage she so badly wanted to inflict.

Sotza’s sharp eyes took her in, drinking her up with obvious possession gleaming in the dark depths. She felt stripped bare, right there in front of both sides. Then his eyes focused on her face and neck, the blood splattered in her blond hair. “You’re hurt,” he growled.

What the fuck was his problem? He attacks her, in her territory, in her dockyard, with the clear intention of taking out as many of her people as possible. But for some reason the idea that’s she’d been hurt in the crossfire displeased him.

“Not mine, asshole,” she snarled back. “One of my guys.”

A hint of relief shadowed his features before he smoothed his expression. “Good,” he replied, casually dismissing the death. She shouldn’t be surprised. To secure his place in Venezuela more than two decades ago, he’d breathed, slept and ate death. The murder of one person, a pesky adversary, would mean nothing to him. In fact, it baffled her that he seemed to want her alive so bad.

“You’re not wearing my ring.” His voice was casual, but she could hear the chill. “I warned you about that.”

“I’m not fucking marrying you!” Vee shouted, unable to maintain her usual calm in the face of this weird psycho. Maybe this was his plan. Annoy the hell out of her until she died of bafflement. “You can take that ring and stick it up your ass.”

He frowned and shook his head. “You need to watch what you say, Vee. I like your elegance, your cool sophistication. It would be a shame for you to turn into a brat. I’d have to reteach you proper decorum after the wedding.”

At that point she wanted to shoot him more than she wanted to breathe. If she didn’t have the safety of her men to consider she might have done it. Though she kept her gun hand lowered, her finger twitched against the trigger.

“Concede the dockyard and I’ll let you and your men go.” His countenance became business-like. “Concede the city and I’ll think about letting your people live permanently.”

Vee didn’t know if she could believe him. While he might want her, he wouldn’t want men that were loyal to anyone but him. Sotza wasn’t known to be merciful. He mowed down all in his path, staked his claim and enjoyed life as though he wasn’t a bloody butcher. She could see movement in the shadows all around him. His men were in place, ready to pick them off if anyone made a false move. She had no choice.

“I’ll give you the dockyard,” she told him. “Let me and my people leave. No more death.”

He chuckled. He’d known she wouldn’t concede the city. He was going to have to pry Miami out of her cold, dead hands. “Done.” He turned and walked away, the smoky shadows swallowing him up almost immediately.

“Let’s go,” Vee growled at her men.

Danny fell into step beside her as they made their way back to the vehicles. “You need to stop giving a shit about us, Vee. You won’t win any ground trying to protect your people. There has to be sacrifice in war.”

“Back off, Danny.” She wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. Even if he was right. She’d known the truth of his words even as she called her men off, forcing them behind her. She couldn’t be their friend, mother, sister, whatever and win this. But the thought of losing any of them was wrenching. She knew most of them personally, knew their families.

As she stood on her balcony, she acknowledged that she’d never felt so alone. What was she protecting her city, her people, from? And why? If she was smart she would run, far and fast. She had the resources to make her way out of the US, to go hide out somewhere in Europe. Switzerland maybe. She could disappear into the mountains, learn to ski.

But Vee had spent most of her life running, hiding from a terrible marriage through the welcoming arms of cocaine. Now that she’d cleaned up and cleared out her house, she wasn’t about to give up all of her hard work. She was done running.

She sighed and rubbed her temple, nose wrinkling when she felt blood flaking from her skin. Time for a shower. And after she would have a cup of herbal tea, something calming, and sit for awhile. Remember to breathe, to just be without the weight of a city on her shoulders.

She made it two steps through the back door when a shadow crossed her path, and Sotza, tall and sinister, moved away from the wall where he’d been leaning. Studying her while she was out on the balcony, vulnerable. She swallowed the scream that leapt to her throat and simply stopped, straightening her shoulders. If he was here to hurt her he would’ve done it. Maybe tossed her off the balcony or slit her throat while her back was turned. He was silent as a cat, managing twice now to sneak up on her.

“Obviously I need to get better locks and more security,” she drawled, maintaining her cool since he didn’t seem in a hurry to break the silence. Apparently her men needed a lesson on how not to let psycho assholes into her home. What the fuck was she paying them for?

“I agree that you need better security. But nothing would have stopped me from checking on you tonight.” He stalked forward, his long legs bringing him right into her space. She tried to appear relaxed, uncaring, but her whole being was rigid with fear and anticipation. This man exuded calm, controlled violence. It seeped out of his very being. It scared the living daylights out of her. Yet the kind of power he exuded, to a woman who lived mafia her entire life, was also attractive.

He walked around her, looking down as he leaned so close she caught a sniff of smoke from the flares, spicy cologne and hard, male sweat. A hint of cinnamon, a scent she wasn’t expecting, made her mouth water. He stopped behind her, bending his head toward her shoulder. He didn’t touch her, but she felt his heat surrounding her, cocooning, capturing and holding her. “A rare jewel should not be left unprotected. When you become mine, I won’t allow such lapses in your protection.”

She snorted, leaned to the side, away from him, swivelled her head to give him her best scathing look, and said, “I’ll never be yours.”

His lips were so close to hers that she could feel each breath he took skitter across her face, her lips, her chin, her cheek. It was… exciting. Who was this fuck who could invade her space so easily, could bridge her ice, make her weak? When her husband became violent, she’d learned to turn that facet of herself off, the part that yearned for a man’s touch. It was too dangerous to want a man because then it meant she had to give up a part of herself. The part that was too easily betrayed. Her trust. No, better she remain the ice queen.

But without a single touch, this man was obliterating her beliefs.

He didn’t smile, but the slight creases around his eyes deepened in amusement. He said, “You belong to me, Vee, whether you admit it, whether you like it.” He waited a beat, giving her time to respond. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure. She was a mature, experienced woman, not some easily baited youth. He continued, “It’s time to relinquish this city into my keeping. Time to accept defeat and move onto the next chapter.”

Her breath caught. Neither of them moved. Like a scene frozen, they stood together. He at her back, her face tilted up in defiance to meet his. She wished that she’d kept her heeled boots on, wished she was taller. She needed the advantage of height in this moment. Felt the need to prove her worth in a man’s world, in Sotza’s world, and keep her carefully cultivated image. Cool, put-together, always in control.

“And what exactly is the next chapter?” Ice dripped from each word.

He didn’t hesitate. “You will become my wife.”

She let out a short bitter laugh. Took a step forward, away from him. Couldn’t have him in her space while they talked. It was too disconcerting, fucked with her head. Made her want things she knew she couldn’t have. They were enemies. Period. Nothing more. The ‘next chapter’ could only end one way. Defeat. Her death or his. Most likely hers. But she’d learned positivity in rehab, so she wasn’t willing to write herself off yet.

Denial leapt to her lips, but she swallowed it. Why be so predictable? He knew her feelings regarding their upcoming nuptials. “Why do you want to marry me, Sotza?” She used his name for the first time. She took another step away and turned to face him. His eyes held no expression, gave nothing away.

Finally, he responded. “Why not, Vee?” His voice was warm but calculating. “We’re both mafia royalty. You know the role and I can take and rule anything I want. Together we can rule several countries, scores of people, control trade in your country and mine.”

She should have considered his words. Calmly considered each point as he made it. But in that moment she hated him, truly hated him. Like her late husband, Tony, Sotza didn’t want her for herself. Didn’t even want her body. Just wanted an alliance. Well, fuck him! Righteous fury ripped through her. “You can go to hell,” she said, eyes narrowed, voice seething.

His face grew stony and his eyes narrowed in return. “You don’t want to take this path with me, Vee,” he said, calm despite the violence infusing his very essence, outlined in every nuance of his body. He seemed to be restraining himself from grabbing her, shaking her, making her see reason. Good, she wanted him on edge, so he understood how she felt every time they clashed.

Then he hit her where it hurt. “Our union is inevitable. Any resistance on your part will be in vain. It will cost more lives.”

He’d figured out at the dockyard that she was unwilling to sacrifice her people in this war. Still, in that moment, she didn’t care. “Get out.” Her voice held icy command, leaving no room for denial.

He nodded, acquiescing. Perhaps he knew she was reaching a breaking point. Thought she might do something stupid if he kept pushing. He moved toward the front door of her condo, his tread silent, his movements imperceptible unless someone was looking right at him.

God, he was good.

He turned, before leaving, his voice quiet but sinister. “Put the ring back on.”

Then he was gone. Once he was out, his overbearing presence gone from her space, she felt like she could breathe. Her knees went weak and she collapsed, crouching in the middle of her living room. She dropped her head into her hands and clutched her hair. She felt helpless. She felt aroused. But most of all she felt angry.

Rage ignited within her, racing through her veins, lighting her up with purpose. Sotza was just another man, trying to push her around, trying to dominate her. She took several deep, calming breaths, dropped her arms and stood, mind racing. An entire year of work completely undermined and dismantled in a matter of weeks. Her precious reputation was in tatters now, thanks to the shadowy, predatory Venezuelan. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on the man and carve him into little pieces. First, she had to take back her territory, then she would show him what ‘Butcher’ really meant, mafia style.

7

“I need you to get me a meeting with Juan Domingo.”

Danny started shaking his head before the name even left Vee’s mouth. “Too dangerous. He’s had guys all over you since you took over from Tony. That asshole piece of shit cartel just can’t handle a woman in charge.”

Vee smirked at his heated remark, despite the gravity of the situation. Danny was not just her protection, he was a friend. He’d been her personal bodyguard when she was still married. He’d seen the bruises, the screaming matches, the constant belittling she’d experienced at Tony’s hands. He was the first person she turned to after murdering her husband, had comforted her as emotion had driven her to her knees, tears streaming down her face. Not sadness at the passing of her husband, not fear at possible reprisals. No, she’d been elated. Relieved, unbelievably happy and overwhelmed at the thought of having her freedom. Danny had nodded his approval at seeing Tony’s body, gathered her in his arms and held her until there were no more tears, as he’d done in the past when Tony had hurt her. Danny stood firmly by her side ever since.

She’d known he wouldn’t like her next plan, but kept her voice firm. “I don’t have a choice. I need to talk to him, convince him to accept my leadership. Before Sotza gets to him.”

“You think Sotza hasn’t already talked to Domingo, brought him onside of the Venezuelans?” Danny sat on the edge of Vee’s desk and gave her a stern look. He stayed calm, assured and steadfast. He was the perfect second. He didn’t do drama and he didn’t do reckless, both of which Vee brought to the table in spades these days.

Vee shook her head. “Word on the street has it Domingo’s been deep in his Mexican mountain fortress, probably hiding from Reyes. That stupid fuck knows I’m Reyes’ contact here in the States. Bet he dove for cover directly after that last aborted strike, thinking the Bolivian might have my back.”

“Yeah, Reyes has your back alright. Handed you over to Sotza on a platter. So what makes you think Domingo’ll come up for a meeting?” Danny asked skeptically. “Especially if he knows Sotza’s in town. My opinion, most of these guys are more afraid of The Butcher than even your boss, Reyes.”

“We’ll tell him Reyes is going to shut the borders to him and go to war if he doesn’t get his ass up here for a meeting. And I don’t want an underling. We’re going to have a civilized conversation, boss to boss.”

Danny snorted. She didn’t blame him for thinking her plan wasn’t going to work. It was reckless at best, suicidal at worst. Each time she was supposed to meet with the Mexicans, take a shipment, they attacked her, tried to undermine her regime. Damn near killed her on that last confrontation. But she didn’t have a choice. Sotza was backing her into a corner. Alienating her contacts, brutally taking over Miami. If she didn’t get the Mexicans on her side then she’d soon have nothing left.

Maybe something in her face finally convinced Danny. He nodded and straightened away from the desk. “I’ll see to it.”

Danny moved away from her, leaving Vee to contemplate how she wanted to play her upcoming confrontation with Juan Domingo. A man that had plagued her time as Miami’s queen. A man that was known to kill family members for fun.

Vee strode into the warehouse like she owned the place. She didn’t. Technically, the Mexicans owned it. Domingo probably had it listed under a shell corporation. It was a place for him to do business whenever he crossed the border. It was big, it was empty, it was easy. It was also eerily silent.

The Mexican cartel were not known for their silence. Especially not when it came to Elvira Montana. They postured, made noise, generally tried to make her feel uncomfortable and undermined at every opportunity. Not all Mexicans, to be sure. She’d done successful business with the some of the cartels further East. But Domingo and his crew were a bunch of pigs. Unfortunately, they were an evil she had no choice but to work with if she wanted to keep trade flowing under her regime.

“We got the right day?” she asked Danny, who was walking beside her, his shoulders tense, his eyes alert. She was half joking and they both knew it. Danny never made mistakes.

“Friday, noon,” he confirmed.

“We should’ve been stopped by now.”

Danny pulled his gun and walked faster, moving in front of Vee. Obviously he agreed. They made their way through the warehouse toward the back offices. No one stopped them.

“At least there’re no bodies,” she pointed out beneath her breath.

Danny shook his head and kept walking. She knew he was thinking what she was thinking. They should’ve brought more men. But Domingo’s instructions had been clear. She could have two outside the building and one at her side. He promised that he would talk, not negotiate, not yet, but he would talk. If she agreed to call Reyes off. Apparently there had been some rumblings out of Bolivia regarding his attack in Miami and Domingo was finally afraid of reprisals.

Her steel-tipped heels tapped against the concrete, echoing through the space as they approached Domingo’s office. Danny said a quick prayer, crossed himself, pushed Vee to the side of the door and opened it.

Vee peeked around his shoulder. “Anticlimactic,” she said drily, stepping around her second and into the empty office.

Danny followed close behind, turning so their backs weren’t to the open door. “We need to get out of here,” he mumbled. “Something’s not right. We can get hold of Domingo later, when you’re safe. Reschedule.”

“Well, fuck,” Vee sighed as she approached the desk. It was completely empty except for a white box wrapped with a red bow. “Somehow I don’t think Domingo will be able to reschedule.”

Vee really didn’t want to open the box. She was beginning to think she wasn’t cut out for this shit. Perhaps she should throw in the towel, empty her accounts and go someplace where she could happily shop for the rest of her life. Get her nails and hair done, both of which were long overdue. And while she suspected it would be a short life, because no way would Sotza let her just disappear forever, she would be happy. For awhile.

Vee untied the ribbon and started to pry the lid off. Danny grabbed her wrist. “Bomb?” he suggested questioningly.

She shook her head and laughed. “No Danny, the Gentleman Butcher is more subtle than that.” She lifted the lid, glanced inside for a few seconds and then replaced it. “He also has the grimmest sense of humour I’ve ever seen.”

8

Sotza debated leaving her alone to stew over this new development. Let the fear gather in her heart. She’d think about running. Maybe take that bodyguard she’s so fond of. He wouldn’t let her though. He’d scoop her up before she even hit the city limits. And then the actual courting could begin.

But Sotza knew her better than that. He was learning everything he could about the delightful woman that was about to become his wife. Every time she made a move he discovered more, filed away the knowledge of her. How she lived, how she worked, the things she liked, what she didn’t like. She certainly didn’t like receiving heads in boxes.

He hit her contact on his phone. He wasn’t at all surprised when she picked up with, “What, you didn’t feel like sneaking into my apartment this evening? I thought you enjoyed preying on helpless women in the dark.”

She didn’t seem the least bit grateful for this latest gift. In fact, seemed to be in a bit of a temper. He pictured her fair complexion flushing with anger and had to shift in his chair, adjust his pants. “I thought you might enjoy an engagement gift.”

“I only enjoy my severed heads followed by absurdly expensive jewelry,” she snapped sarcastically. “Why’d you kill him?”

“He had his men shoot at you, Vee. You nearly died during your last run-in with him,” he explained calmly. “I can’t have people shooting at my future wife. Sets a bad precedent.”

She didn’t speak for a moment, but he could hear her breath coming out in short angry exhales as she tried to compose herself, tried not to scream at him. “I needed him, Sotza. And you murdered him so you could solidify your claim in the US and undermine everything I’ve been working for.”

“I know.” He took a thoughtful pause. She really wasn’t getting it. Perhaps he needed to reinforce his position, but just a gentle reminder. For now, anyway. “But you don’t need him, Vee. You don’t need any of your former contacts. Once we’re married you’ll stand at my side, running things with me. Not against me. And never in danger.”

“You. Are. Insane,” she bit out.

He laughed. She really was delightful. “Not really, but you’ll soon get a chance to know all of my charming characteristics.”

“Over my dead body,” she snarled.

“Ah, never that, amor,” he assured her. “But if you keep up this resistance, this wonderful dance we’re doing, the dead bodies will continue to pile up. Why don’t we just cut to the end and you agree to quit the fight and become my wife?”

“You know what happened to my last husband, right?” she asked as though talking to a child.

“Of course, a stellar piece of work there. Executing a weak ruler and flawlessly picking up where he left off.” He reached for his drink, Red Rose tea with one sugar, and took a quick sip. “You will make an exemplary partner. I’m honestly becoming as impatient as a young bridegroom.”

No response for a moment and he wondered what she was thinking. He found her all the more enticing for thinking that she could change his mind. Nothing she said or did would change his mind. They were a match made in heaven. Had been from the moment he set eyes on her, but he became more convinced each time he saw her, talked with her. She was vicious, intelligent and beautiful. He couldn’t have asked for a better woman to come into his life. He didn’t mind chasing her around a bit, cornering her in her beloved city until she had nowhere to go but into his waiting arms.

“Alright,” she finally said. “Nothing I say is going to convince you otherwise. But if you ever do manage to get me to an alter it will be one hundred percent unwilling. And you’ll have to sleep with one eye open for the rest of your life.”

“I’m sure we’ll settle into married life blissfully,” he replied, a smile curving his lips.

“And for the record, no woman likes to receive body parts as an engagement gift, asshole.” Each word a little grenade lobbed at him. He let her have the last word, mostly because she hung up on him.

Sotza lowered the phone and took a sip of tea, picturing Vee, flushed with anger, stomping around her condo. She was a beautiful woman, but he particularly liked when her cheeks were blushing pink. It complemented her smooth, silky blond hair. He’d never been particularly attracted to any single type of woman. Thought they were all fine. Fucked the ones that attracted him, when he felt like it. Not often. Women got complicated and annoying. And he preferred not to kill them unless it became unavoidable. But Vee, she was different. Her cool beauty called to him, but her fiery temper captured and held his attention. Her intelligence, her determination, her pride, it all sealed the deal.

There was almost nothing he wasn’t willing to do to ensure her place at his side. Including cornering and trapping her in her own city. He’d give her one more move, just for fun. After that, it would be time to collect his queen.

9

“We can’t find her, Señor.”

Sotza looked up from his temporary desk and studied the man standing before him, assessing him. He didn’t frown, didn’t get angry, didn’t react. That was the thing about the Venezuelan boss, what terrorized the people that knew him, or knew of him. He rarely gave warning before he struck. Simply waited until his victim wasn’t watching then killed them, no fuss, no mess. The lucky ones would die before they even knew what happened. The unlucky ones got to find out why he was nicknamed the Gentleman Butcher.

Sotza sat back in his chair, his posture straight. “I must say, Mr. Cruz, I am… disappointed.”

It’d been five days since he spoke with Vee, five days since he took out her Mexican connection. He had to admit, he’d been hoping for a vicious comeback from his future bride. Her retaliations were a thing of beauty, the dockyard a particular favourite moment of his. She’d been glorious, facing him down, standing at the front of her crew, surrounded by smoke. Wild and furious, unafraid. He wasn’t disappointed with her quiet disappearance though. No, he was intrigued. What could she be up to?

Steve Cruz shifted from foot to foot and tried to look anywhere but at his boss. “The thing is, she ain’t at her condo, she ain’t at her mansion, and none of us that’re sitting on both places saw her leave.”

“Which draws us to the conclusion…?” Sotza asked patiently.

Cruz frowned, then he understood. “That she must’ve left another way, or maybe never was at home to begin with.”

“She was home, Cruz, as I told you when I asked you and your men to sit on her residences. To watch her movements and report.” Sotza mulled over the possibilities. “Perhaps she didn’t leave. Perhaps she’s still at home.”

“No, boss, we checked.”

Sotza stiffened, his back ramrod straight against the leather chair. “What exactly do you mean by ‘checked’?”

“We knocked on the door.” Watching Cruz explain his actions was like watching a train about to derail. His death was going to be fast, surprising and painful. “When she didn’t answer we went in to check on her, see if she was there. But everything was silent, cold, you know, like no one’d been home in awhile.”

Sotza refrained from pointing out that he’d specifically asked Cruz and his men to remain in the background, never going near Vee or her people. Now it would appear that Vee had gone to ground in a move he hadn’t anticipated, and he had no idea where she might be. If she’d fled the city or was waiting him out.

He also didn’t ask why Cruz hadn’t thought it strange that there was no security stopping them from entering her home. He didn’t want to tip Cruz off to the depth of his fury. Not before he was ready to dispose of the man. “And the mansion? I take it you applied similar tactics?”

Cruz nodded eagerly, wanting to prove his diligence. “No one home there either, Señor.”

This is what Sotza got for hiring local thugs. He’d overestimated Cruz’s intelligence, expected too much. In hindsight, Sotza should’ve gotten someone smarter, braver and generally a bit more of everything that Cruz wasn’t to watch his woman. The moment he’d decided to keep Vee for himself he should’ve flown Mateo Gutierrez in. Mateo was a jack of all trades. Sometimes Sotza’s second, sometimes his enforcer, sometimes security, and sometimes, on rare occasions, he acted in Sotza’s stead. Taking meetings Sotza couldn’t or wouldn’t make, acting decisively in the Venezuelan boss’s name. Naturally, when Sotza had left his estate, he’d left his seat of power vulnerable. The only man he trusted to care for things in his stead was Mateo. But now he needed him in Miami.

When Sotza went a few minutes without speaking, Cruz opened his mouth to say something, break the silence, possibly blubber out an excuse for his poor behaviour. Sotza help up a hand, stopping him. Cruz fell silent while Sotza picked up his phone and dialed Mateo.

“Mateo,” Sotza said into the phone when his man picked up, his voice marginally warmer.

“Boss,” Mateo acknowledged. “How’s Florida? You get down to the beach yet, enjoy some sun?”

Sotza shook his head. Mateo liked to think he was funny. He enjoyed the idea of Sotza in a bathing suit, out of his typical outfit of impeccable black suit with its long coat, white collared shirt, vest and tie. “Regrettably, no.”

“Too bad,” Mateo said, humour in his voice. “With your once-per-decade tolerance toward vacations I thought you might do what the locals do and go to the beach.”

Now Sotza did chuckle. The reason Mateo was calling his trip to Miami a ‘vacation’ was because they both knew how much Sotza enjoyed a good bloodbath. He loved takeovers, the more hostile the better. It’d been years since anyone had dared to disrupt his life enough that he had to reiterate his brutal reputation. This trip had invigorated him, reminded him of why he loved being boss. And Vee was the icing on the cake. The sweet treat he wasn’t expecting when he agreed to Reyes’ proposal to travel to the States.

“I need you in Miami,” Sotza said, sobering and getting down to business. “Come watch my back while I take care of business.”

“With pleasure,” Mateo said enthusiastically. He was no less bloodthirsty than his boss. He’d been disappointed, though appreciative, when Sotza left him in charge at home. Now he’d get to join the action. “I’ll arrange my arrival just past midnight.”

Sotza flicked a glance at his watch. It was 7pm. The flight took around three and half hours. This is what he liked about his man. Didn’t fuck around when he had his orders. Made snap decisions that were in both his and Sotza’s best interests. Mateo wasn’t an amateur. Sotza eyed Cruz, who had remained wisely silent throughout the conversation. He wondered if maybe he shouldn’t keep the man alive, perhaps find another use for him.

“Excellent,” Sotza said to Mateo. “Bring some reinforcements. I’d like to wrap things up here and wouldn’t mind some decisive action to keep Miami in line after I leave.”

He hung up the phone and stared coolly at Cruz. “Do you have a friend, Mr. Cruz? Someone loyal, maybe educated? Someone that can help me out until I’m done here.”

Cruz nodded emphatically, pleased to be able to finally give the terrifying Venezuelan some good news. “Yes, Señor. My cousin Paulo is real book smart and good on the streets too. He likes to help out sometimes, make a little extra cash for college.”

“And how do I get in touch with Paulo?” Sotza drawled.

Cruz quickly wrote down the number and stepped back. “Anything else I can do you for, boss?”

“Yes,” Sotza said agreeably. “Lock the door, please. This next part isn’t for anyone but you.”

10

Vee was not happy. And when she wasn’t happy she paced. Back and forth, side to side, crosswise. Paced and thought. Tried to think of ways to make herself happier.

“His head in a box would be great,” she muttered to herself. “Hell, I’d even take his severed hands in a box. With a ribbon wrapped around. Have to admit, it’s a nice touch. Adds an element of gruesome suspense. A decent bath and a hot cup of tea would also be great. But no need to go overboard, the dead Butcher in a box will do just fine.”

Danny raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He was used to her nervous, irritable pacing. She tended to think better when she walked, but her life as an East Coast mafia boss had curtailed her ability to take regular walks outdoors. A shame, she loved to go down to the boardwalk and enjoy the fresh salty sea air, the humid heat of the Florida sun seeping through her clothes and warming her skin.

Vee wasn’t happy when she wasn’t active. She wasn’t happy when she wasn’t working. And she especially wasn’t happy when she’d been driven into hiding, cooped up in a dilapidated industrial apartment on the wrong side of the tracks. Danny had convinced her to lay low in the city if she wouldn’t actually leave it. It was killing her to keep a low profile, sit back while Sotza took out her contacts and replaced them with his own people. She’d warned some of her people that they needed to leave town and lay low, others she hadn’t been able to get hold of.

She badly wanted to take action, but she listened to Danny, decided to play things smart. To give Sotza time. He would be distracted by her disappearance if he was indeed as infatuated with her as he professed. It might slow him down, confuse him. Give her time to come up with a plan.

“What if we went to Bertrand for help?” she asked, louder, so Danny knew she was actually talking to him this time. She turned on her heel as she reached the far wall. She was wearing a pair of comfortable running shoes instead of her usual steel-spiked stilettos.

“Not a good idea,” Danny said shaking his head. “Bertrand’s loyal to no one but himself and his MC. He’ll turn you over to Sotza in a heartbeat in he thinks he can profit.”

“I’ll offer him more,” she countered with a frown.

“You had enough trouble with the Mexicans, now you think you can take on the most vicious biker gang on the East Coast? Bertrand doesn’t like a woman’s authority any more than Domingo had. Only difference is, Bertrand was able to separate business from personal politics when it came to border trade.” Danny crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at her. “How do you think you can outmaneuver both a perpetually angry biker and The Butcher at the same time? Bad idea sweetheart.”

Danny was right. Calling on the Quebec boys would only land her in even more trouble. Bertrand was one of a kind: big, mean, cold-hearted and indiscriminate about his kills. True to club life, the wild leader rarely recognized any kind of authority. There was a reason she tried never to see him face to face. With a whole MC filled with men similar to him he had a stranglehold on the entire East Coast of Canada.

She sighed and continued pacing. “What about the Italians? Some of them might remember Tony from his heyday, might talk to me, give me a chance.”

Danny actually laughed out loud, incredulous. “You’ve been encroaching on their territory this entire past year. You think they don’t know exactly who took over when you killed Tony? They were front of the line for that show. Only reason they haven’t come for you is you had more people at your back than them, you had Reyes.”

She flinched when he mentioned Reyes. The man that had effectively targeted her for death by sending Sotza to clean up her operations. No one wanted to be on Reyes’ bad side.

Danny continued, “If the Italians find out that your hold on Miami is in question, they’ll slit your throat faster than you can say spaghetti.”

“I have to do something!” She threw her hands up in the air. She turned to glare at her second. He wasn’t being even remotely helpful.

“What you have to do is stay low, keep your head down. Don’t do something stupid, Vee. Not worth your life.”

“I can’t do this indefinitely. I hate hiding, it’s not my style. I didn’t even lay low when Tony was coming after me, screaming at me,” she seethed. “If I could take a beating from him and hold my own, then I certainly won’t hide from Sotza.”

Danny didn’t say anything, just watched silently as she continued to pace and mutter, trying to come up with a solution. It didn’t matter what he said anyway, she would go her own way. She was reasonable enough to listen to his advice, but she was headstrong and stubborn. She’d follow her own path in the end, do what she thought was the right thing to solve her problem.

Finally she stopped, her distracted gaze on the floor. “Sotza’s trying to smoke me out, corner me, kill my business. He expects fury and retaliation.” She looked at Danny, her heart beating harder in anticipation. “What if I surprise him, give him the opposite of what he expects?”

Instead of intrigued or even remotely like he would agree to her plan, Danny looked suspiciously disagreeable. “And what exactly is that?” he demanded. A little disrespectfully, she thought. But she’d forgive him since she’d essentially painted a target on his back by going up against the Venezuelan.

“Me,” she said with a smile as the plan formed in her mind. “I’m going to give him me.”

“I must say.” Sotza smoothly slid into the booth next to Vee. He shifted until he was sitting so close his thigh was brushing hers. “I wasn’t expecting to dine with such a charming companion this evening.”

Vee kept her face as neutral as possible and purposefully slid a few inches away from him. She lifted her water glass and took a sip before carefully placing it back on the table. It took effort to make sure her hand didn’t shake, that she didn’t accidentally spill the water. She was sitting next to one of the most dangerous men in the world, and though she could be pretty vicious herself, she couldn’t hold a candle to him. She boldly studied him, allowing the silence to linger. She’d asked for this meeting so that she could finally take back a little control.

Everything about him pissed her off. From his dignified presence to his impeccably tailored clothing. Every time she saw him he was wearing a version of the same suit: dress pants, white collared shirt with a French cuff paired with appeared to be silk knot cufflinks, silk, Jacquard black tie, vest and coat. He stood out against the Miami backdrop, overdressed for the weather, too formal for the laid back party city. Yet the quiet air of deadly menace that he exuded negated his strange formality. He was not a classically handsome man, face too sharp, features too strong. Thick eyebrows, penetrating dark brown eyes, a long, thin nose, high cheekbones, strong clean-shaven jaw. There was a slight curl to his dark, greying hair, which he groomed to include long sideburns. They only emphasized the sharpness of his facial features, giving him a penetrating, hawk-like appearance.

And though she knew better, should be repulsed by how the man operated, her body reacted to his. Every time she saw him. Something about him was intensely attractive. Not any individual thing, but the whole package together. She didn’t like to acknowledge it, but his dogged pursuit of her certainly didn’t hurt either. It annoyed her that she reacted so strongly to him, made her want to slit his throat at the earliest opportunity, yet Vee had to admit that a marriage proposal from such a powerful, good-looking man was enough to make even her cold, ice-filled heart flutter.

Finally, after an appropriately rude amount of time had passed, she spoke, her voice cool. “Hiding doesn’t suit me.”

His thin lips stretched into a semi-smile as his eyes dropped down her body. He shifted slightly, signalling a nearby waiter. “No, my dear, hiding does not suit you.” He turned to speak to the waiter. “I’ll have a bourbon, neat. And champagne for the lady please.” Sotza turned back to her, his arm across the back of the booth, pinning her in.

Vee frowned, her gaze following the retreating waiter. “If I’d wanted a drink I would’ve ordered one for myself.”

Sotza ignored her comment. “Why did you invite me here this evening, Vee? Not that I’m not delighted, but your behaviour thus far has indicated you don’t particularly enjoy my company.”

Vee’s jaw was beginning to ache from clenching her teeth together in an attempt to keep a rein on her anger. She struggled not to give away her emotions, to keep her face as immobile as possible while she studied him with what she hoped appeared to be glacial indifference. Still, she couldn’t just let the drink thing go. “You’re a heavy-handed prick, you know that?”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment and reached for his drink as the waiter arrived back at the table. Sotza drank deeply, seeming to appreciate the smooth liquor as it slid down his throat. He didn’t order another though, simply placed his empty glass on the table and continued to study her. His face said indifference, but his eyes and body spoke of heat and lust. It was a confusing combination. He off-balanced her, made her wonder what his true intentions were. As flattering as it was to receive a marriage proposal, she knew she couldn’t trust his motives. No one fell in love that quickly.

“I want to negotiate,” she said in her firmest voice, ignoring the drink in front of her. She wouldn’t touch it. The waiter came by to see if Sotza wanted another drink and while he was there she handed him back the champagne. “I don’t drink alcohol, and if my date had done his homework, he’d know that.” Sotza gifted her with a small incline of his head as he waved the waiter away. She suspected Sotza already knew her preferences, was fucking with her. He wasn’t the type to leave any box unchecked.

“What are we negotiating?” he asked, tapping his fingers against the booth, just behind her head.

She stiffened at how close his hand was to her hair. Her voice came out sharper than she intended when she spoke. “My home. Your retreat.”

He tilted his head slightly, examining her, eyes appearing to pick her apart. Vee hadn’t taken much when she’d fled her apartment, but she’d taken enough clothes to prepare for every eventuality, whether it was murder or dining with the Queen of England. Tonight she was wearing a light pink silk sleeveless blouse that complimented her pale complexion, a fitted rose coloured skirt and a long-sleeved black leather jacket that fit her like she was born in it. On her feet she wore her favourite pair of steel-spiked five-inch heels.

“I want you to give me my city back. I want you to take your people, turn around and go back to where you came from,” she said, her voice strong and sure though she was quaking on the inside. “No more threats, no more violence.”

He picked up her water glass and drank from it, his lips touching the spot hers had touched. A bolt of pure lightening sizzled through her body. “And what exactly will you give me for such a concession?” he asked, replacing her glass on the table.

She gazed at him, eyes narrowed. “I won’t retaliate, won’t come after you with everything I have.”

“It would be suicide,” he said, his fingers tapping faster. She twisted around to look at them and then shot him a pointed glare.

“At this point what do I have to lose?” she asked heatedly. “You’ve taken everything from me. My city, some of my men, my position, my dignity, even my rivals. Why should I sit back and let you take what’s left?”

The lines around his mouth tightened giving him a foreboding look. “You could lose your life, Vee.”

“And what’s that worth?” she snapped.

His hand moved so fast, so independently of the rest of him that she didn’t know what was happening until her head was slammed back against the seat and his face was hovering inches away from hers. He’d tangled his fingers in her hair and wrenched her backwards against the booth, using the strength in his long fingers to twist her head slightly to the side so she was facing him.

“That is not an option,” he said, his voice colder than anything she’d heard from him yet.

“What?” She tried to focus on what he meant while shafts of pain contrasted with a heightened physical awareness, which ran from her head down the length of her body. What wasn’t an option?

“You don’t get to die, Elvira.” His lips lifted in a slight snarl, giving away some of the emotion he tried so hard to withhold.

“Why?” she demanded, pushing on despite the dangerous aura pulsating from him. It was never a good idea to piss off The Butcher. “I’m nothing to you, expendable. You’ve made my presence in this city pretty much unnecessary. So why do you care if I die?”

He leaned in, so close that she could feel his breath caressing her. It was warm, crisp and smelled like cinnamon, as though he’d been chewing gum or something right before their meeting. Had he anticipated a kiss? And why the fuck did she care. They were talking about her possible death for Christ sakes.

His dark, velvety brown eyes now held fire. He emphasized each word he spoke with a quiet assurance. “You are rare, Elvira. A jewel among rocks. Your death would be blasphemy.”

Her thoughts scattered. His actions were so at odds with his words. His hands hurt and threatened her, but his eyes and voice caressed her, wrapping her in erotic tension. The only thing she could think to say was, “Don’t call me Elvira. I hate that name.”

He chuckled, the sound dark and delicious, sending a shiver right through her. His eyes dropped, chased her shudder from the top of her throat, past her breasts, which were peaked beneath her jacket, right down to her lap. He loosened his fingers in her hair and stroked them through, smoothing the strands.

“You belong to me, Vee. And no one harms the things that belong to me.”

“I’m not a thing!” She jerked her head away from him. “I was boss in this city until you came along.”

He shrugged and allowed her some space. “Regimes fall, my dear. If you’re smart, you’ll follow the path of the victor. Take what I offer and be thankful that staying alive is an option. It wouldn’t usually be under these circumstances.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped, out of options for comebacks.

“You want to be careful what you do and say right now.” His cool mask slipping back into place. “We’re nearing the finish line and it’s just about time to stop playing around. As much fun as I’ve had here with you I need to get back to my home.”

“You’re psychotic,” she hissed. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“You are acting like a feral cat, Vee, trapped in a corner. You seem to think the only way out is a fight to the death. I can assure you it’s not. I won’t allow anything to happen to you, even if it means hurting you in the short term to ensure that there is a tomorrow for both of us.”

She frowned and pressed her lips together to stop herself from snapping out another clever comeback like the last one. He was right, she was acting like a trapped animal. Every move she made reeked of fear and desperation. She needed to be smarter, think five steps ahead of him. Only who the fuck knew what was going on in his crazy head? “I think we’re done here,” she finally said, her voice colder than her eyes as she stared through him.

He sighed regretfully and moved away from her, standing up. Before he left he pinned her with a heated stare. “Last move, my queen. I’m coming for you.”

11

Last move…

Vee contemplated Sotza’s words as she laid on an uncomfortable mattress in the dark, uninviting industrial apartment she was using. She really should just go home, back to her small luxuries. The Venezuelan probably knew exactly where she was hiding out and was laughing at her new circumstances. Well… probably not. He seemed to harbour a weird soft spot for her. Despite her constant defiance, he didn’t seem to want her uncomfortable. She shifted onto her back, kicked at the blanket covering her legs and shoved a hand through her hair. She lay like that, hand on her head, staring at nothing.

Whose last move? Hers or his? The thought chilled her to the bone. If it was her last move then she was royally screwed. She had nothing left to negotiate with. Perhaps there were still a few contacts loyal to her, but they would fall. Either by death or switching sides. Most likely death. She couldn’t see Sotza allowing anyone to live who would switch loyalties so easily. The man seemed to have a strange set of ethics, but they worked for him. Far more effectively than hers. She was so busy trying to protect the people under her care that she stopped pushing back lest someone else get hurt. She’d sent most of her backup into hiding. Life was looking pretty bleak.

Tears of hopelessness burned behind her eyelids, but she refused to let them fall. Pressed the heel of her hands hard against her eyes to stop them. She stopped crying years ago. She wasn’t about to let some asshole mobster break her. Even if he’d broken everything around her.

Perhaps it was time to give up the fight, stop acting out of desperation and start thinking smart. Cut her losses and go. Find a place he’d never think to look. Because as much as she wanted to think he would allow her to leave unscathed, she knew better. A man like that, once he stated his intentions, would always follow through. If she stayed it would be just a matter of time until he scooped her up. If she stayed, more people would die. More of her beautiful city would burn.

Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, she would leave.

“She’s on the move,” Mateo told his boss, watching from a window across the street from Vee’s hiding place. “Taking two bodyguards and a suitcase. Could be moving back home. Maybe she’s done with this low-class shit.”

Mateo cast a scathing eye around the place he’d been calling home since his arrival in Miami. He was not impressed. It was dilapidated, dirty, bug-infested and there was no running water. Just a tiny, uncomfortable cot and the nastiest toilet he’d come across in awhile. He suspected Vee’s accommodations were similar and was somewhat impressed that the delicate blond he’d been charged with watching would put up with it.

“Interesting,” Sotza replied. “No, I don’t think she would go back home. It would be admitting defeat.”

“Isn’t running away from the city her way of admitting defeat?” Mateo pointed out. He was in a high enough position within The Butcher’s organization that he’d been invited to submit his thoughts and opinions. No one else could offer such an observation without the boss taking issue.

Sotza chuckled. “Perhaps. But leaving the city to a destination of her choice is admitting defeat on her terms. Staying would be bowing to me on my terms. The lady is far too feisty for that.”

“Sounds complicated,” Mateo said, watching as Vee and her bodyguards drove away. “She’s left the area. Won’t be able to disappear though, I’m tracking all vehicles that’ve had contact with her.”

“I never doubted it,” Sotza said, satisfaction clear in his voice. “That’s the reason I brought you here. Your ability to track is unparalleled.”

Mateo was flattered, the boss didn’t hand out compliments. Still, he felt compelled to respond. “You brought me here to babysit a woman?” Mateo had anticipated war, a bloodbath, standing by Sotza’s side as a powerful regime fell to be replaced by their own command. He hadn’t expected his entire job to be following a woman around. Albeit an attractive, intelligent woman.

Silence on the other end of the phone made him think he was toeing too close to the line. Though he was the right hand to Sotza, they weren’t friends. No one befriended the man. He was cold, intelligent and vicious. Cozying up to the Venezuelan was like an ant wanting to make friends with a shoe. Impossible. Because no matter how close one got within the organization, no matter how high up, one just never knew when that shoe was going to drop.

“I brought you here to track and protect my future wife. The future of my organization. Her life is vitally important.” Sotza spoke with cool authority, but the deadly undercurrent told Mateo that any more sleights against Ms. Montana would not pass.

“Understood,” Mateo said. And he did. Though Sotza hadn’t shown even a fleeting interest in any single woman since Mateo knew the man, he now understood that the dynamic of the Venezuelan cartel had changed. There would soon be a queen at the top, standing next to Sotza.

“Good,” Sotza said, putting the brief but tense exchange behind them and getting back to business. “I want your men on that car. It might have a tracker but that doesn’t mean she won’t slip away. She’s wily.” Sotza’s voice held a modicum of pride and warmth. Another first.

“I’ll get them on it right away, she won’t be able to go anywhere without us knowing her every move. What do you want me to do?” Now that Elvira was leaving, and he was assured she would be tracked, his presence at the warehouse was unnecessary.

“I have an extremely important and delicate task for you. I need you to find Vee’s daughter and bring her to me.”

12

Raina Duncan studied the fake ID with critical appreciation. She’d just updated it to say she was 22 years old and added a new, more mature picture. The picture was the most important part. It had to match the person holding the ID, but it needed to be just right so as not to draw attention. Hers was perfect. Not too attention-grabbing, nothing suspicious. She’d worn a pink collared blouse and her gold chain. Her blond hair was left to flow in loose waves around her face, spilling across one shoulder. Piercing blue eyes looked back at her from behind a pair of trendy glasses with thick, light pink plastic rims. She’d wanted to look young in the picture, but not too young. She needed to look as though she could be younger than 22 but only thanks to great genetics.

Her eyes moved to the two ID’s next to hers, for her friends, Noah and Cass. They looked just as good as hers, she thought, tooting her own horn. She was damn good at making ID’s, including, driver’s licenses, state identifications and passports. She needed something to supplement her University tuition. Pennsylvania State University wasn’t cheap and her parents couldn’t afford to help her out much. They were farm folk; good, honest and hardworking. And though Raina was willing to put a certain amount of hard work in, she wanted to see big payoffs. Which is why she wasn’t nearly as good or honest as mom and dad.

Raina assumed she got a good portion of her personality and all of her looks from her birth parents. Both of her parents had dark hair and eyes, ruddy complexions and stocky builds. Raina was the exact opposite, small, slim, blond, blue-eyed. Her temperament was much different too. She was headstrong, stubborn, sneaky and smart.

Too often her parents hadn’t known what to do with her. But she loved them and they loved her, unreservedly and unconditionally. They had stood by her side since she was a baby, protecting her through illness and major surgery. Raina had been born with poorly functioning kidneys. The problem had started to make itself known when she was only five years old. She’d had a kidney transplant at thirteen and been relatively healthy ever since, though she had to watch her diet carefully to make sure her one functioning kidney remained that way.

It was Raina’s 19th birthday and she was going to celebrate. Well, it wasn’t actually her birthday. It’d been her birthday five days ago, but she and her friends wanted to wait until the weekend to celebrate. Take their hot new ID’s and hit up a bar, dance and drink until they either got kicked out or moved on to the next party.

A tall, curvy brunette breezed through Raina’s door without knocking and tossed herself onto the bed. She bounced, dropped her purse and then sat up with a grin.

“Hey loser, you ready to go yet?” Cass asked happily. Then her eyes crawled over her best friend. “No, you are not. What the F, Raina? You can’t go bar hopping in your Uni sweater and sweat pants. Those are really ugly pants, by the way.”

Raina giggled at Cass’s refusal to say ‘fuck.’ Like Raina, Cass had grown up in a small farming community. Unlike Raina, Cass took right after her God-fearing parents. She was fun, energetic and generally a good upstanding citizen. It had taken some convincing on Raina’s and Noah’s parts to convince the third in their Three Musketeers group to come out and party. But once she got on board with the idea, there was no stopping Cass. She loved to dress up, wear makeup and have a good time. Raina was convinced once they got a few drinks in her she would be dancing on tabletops and saying ‘fuck’ with the best of them.

Cass dug around in Raina’s closet while Raina checked her emails and Facebook. “What about this one?” Cass twirled around with a dress in her hands. Raina glanced up briefly, saw it was her short skirted, peek-a-boo sleeved blue dress with a pattern of tiny white flowers scattered across.

“Sure,” she replied quickly. She didn’t care much about clothes and fashion, though she had some nice outfits thanks to her ill-gotten money and Cass’s shopping addiction.

She dressed quickly, ran a brush through her hair and turned to Cass. “I’m ready.”

Cass rolled her eyes. “Not even some mascara? I mean you’re gorgeous, girl, but it wouldn’t hurt to give those pale eyelashes a little zing.”

Raina shrugged, grabbed her purse and the ID’s and said, “No one can tell if I’m wearing mascara or not under my glasses. Besides as soon as I take my glasses off I can’t see what I’m doing and end up smearing it everywhere.”

Cass sighed and dug around in her own purse until she came up with some lip gloss. “Put some of this on. It’s got that plumping stuff in it. I love it.”

Raina accepted the lip gloss and put it on, mostly so Cass would stop bugging her. “It tingles,” she said with a frown handing it back.

“It’s working!” Cass explained, grabbing Raina’s arm and dragging her out the door. “Makes your lips plumper.”

“I like my lips the way they are,” Raina complained.

Raina had a good night. She was still grinning as she got out of the Uber, hugged Cass and Noah good-bye and headed to her dorm. She’d done exactly as she wanted for her birthday. She ate hot wings in a pub, drank a beer, shot some pool. Then the three of them moved onto a nearby nightclub where they did sour whiskey shots, drank rum and coke and danced until 2am. Raina had a good head on her. She knew when to stop, knew she couldn’t push her fragile body past its limits. She stopped at four drinks, but encouraged her friends to imbibe, have a few shots for her. They toasted to her one good kidney.

Raina skipped toward her dormitory, singing the new Cardi B song and two-stepping her way down the walk. She glanced around for security but didn’t see anyone. They were probably around the corner checking on the other building. She frowned, weird though, usually there was always a security guard somewhere in the big square leading to the dorms.

She was rounding the corner of Hastings Hall, stepping through the shadows, when someone grabbed her from behind. She opened her mouth to scream but a hand covered her face and yanked her back against a hard chest. She didn’t think twice; she started fighting for all she was worth. She slammed an elbow backwards as hard as she could. She wasn’t sure what she hit, but her elbow met something solid. The guy ‘oomphed’ and stumbled back a step. He still had a good grip on her though and she wasn’t able to cry out, get someone’s attention.

Raina frantically dug in her purse while her assailant struggled to get a better grip on her wiggling body. She finally found what she was looking for, a can of bear spray. Gripping it hard in one hand she twisted to the side and swung her closed fist down, aiming for his crotch. She missed but got a solid hit on his thigh. He grunted something that sounded like “motherfucker!” and loosened his grip for a second. Just long enough that she was able to slam another elbow into his stomach.

He swung her around to face him, which is exactly what she wanted. But when she was face-to-face with her attacker she froze. He wasn’t some college kid out to get his rocks off, he didn’t look like some peeping Tom pervert either. No, this man was big and mean-looking, completely outside of anyone she’d ever met. He looked Latino with darkly tanned skin, black hair and blazing dark brown eyes. Before she’d had a good look at him she had been only pissed off that someone would try to grab her, now she was utterly terrified. What did a man like this want with someone like her?

“You need to calm the fuck down, chica,” he snarled, his hands hard on her arms. “You’re coming with me. Up to you if you do it dignified and nice or knocked out and tied up.”

“You expect me to go along with my own assault? Not fucking likely!” Raina raised the can of bear spray and took aim.

Before she could deploy the painful mist into his face, he moved, so fast she couldn’t understand what he was doing until her feet were swept out from under her and she was falling backward onto the pavement. She let out a yelp and cringed, knowing she was about to hit the ground hard. But she didn’t. Her attacker controlled her fall, coming down on top of her, making sure she had a soft landing. His grip on her wrist was not as soft though. He had her in a crushing hold, her arm over her head.

He landed on top of her, straddling her waist, his legs pinning hers, his hand over her mouth. He lifted her arm and slammed it into the pavement until her hand opened and she lost the bear spray. She was stunned that he bested her. She thought her karate skills should protect her from would-be attackers. She was fit, strong-ish and thought she was pretty fucking good in hand to hand combat. But this guy made her feel like a baby kitten going up against a tiger.

A chill shiver ran through her body as she was forced to lay immobile, staring up at her captor. How many times had he done this? Was she about to become the victim of a serial killer? Another in a long line of women that disappeared, never to be seen alive again?

Hell no, she was not! And with that thought she began fighting again, twisting, struggling until her legs were free then slamming her knees into his back. He might be big, he might be solid, he might be better than her in combat situations, but he wasn’t small and wiry, with a deep thirst to hurt those that hurt her. Raina had never been one to take sleights lightly. She had a mouth on her and wasn’t afraid to tell people what was what, call a spade a spade. She was the first to participate in rallies, shout her political opinions at the top of her lungs. She was especially passionate about women’s rights and freedoms. And she was definitely anti-kidnapping.

She quickly became aware that he wasn’t trying to hurt her. In fact, he was actively trying to do the opposite. Make sure she didn’t bruise herself too much in the fight. What the fuck kind of a serial killer-rapist was she dealing with? Didn’t matter, his ‘gently subdue the girl’ approach was going to work to her advantage. As soon as she had a hand free she went for his eyes. He moved his head, dropping it against her chest so her nails raked down the side of his neck. She was gratified to hear him grunt in pain.

Then he decided to get serious. He used his legs to pin her flailing limbs, gripped her hands together in one of his and slammed them over her head. He twisted her face to the side, a large hand wrapped around her jaw, and he leaned in until his lips were just over her ear.

“You need to stop fighting me, Raina. Right. Fucking. Now.”

His use of her name immobilized her better than anything else he’d done or said. He knew her name. He fucking knew her name! So, this wasn’t just some random kidnapping. She was his intended victim. Somehow, that thought made her situation even scarier. Had this been a random attack, a crime of opportunity, then he truly wasn’t invested in her. Maybe she could’ve fought until she escaped and found a security guard. Instead she was being held in the arms of a man who knew her name, knew she would be walking home alone tonight. A man who seemed determined to take her. He was invested in her kidnapping.

Once she quit fighting he eased his grip on her chin.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, trying to make her voice a hard demand, but it sounded more breathless and frightened.

“I was charged with finding and acquiring you,” he said, shifting until they were both sitting. He moved her hands to the front of her body, still clasped in his hard grip. “My boss wants you where he can keep an eye on you, baby.”

She stared at him like he was insane. “I’m not going anywhere with you! I have midterms next week.”

“I think,” he drawled, his dark eyes gleaming under the dim campus lighting, “you’ll have to take a pass. In fact, probably best to take the year off. I suspect you won’t be back for awhile.”

“Like fucking hell!” she snapped and tried to kick out at him. He shoved himself between her legs and yanked her up against his chest, holding her in an unbreakable embrace. She went with her last resort, the death glare.

He opened his mouth to say something, his fingers tightening around her when a voice interrupted them. “Hey! You okay over there?” She twisted around to see, thought it might be one of the security guards, but the man holding her yanked her fully against his chest. He pulled something from his jacket and pressed it against her side. Not into her body, but pointing away, toward the person who was striding toward them.

Then he kissed her. Full on the mouth, lips pressed against hers. She gasped, accidentally breathing in his scent, a mix of spicy cigar and man. She was too shocked to push back or struggle. She lay frozen against him, accepting the strange moment for what it was. Her first kiss. She wasn’t like other girls. Hadn’t had a chance to grow up normal. Though she loved to do normal stuff like everyone else, her illness had stopped her. As a result she’d become sheltered as a child, overprotected by well-meaning parents.

Before her brain could fully engage and tell her she needed to snap back to reality, the stranger kissing her lifted his lips a fraction of an inch from hers and whispered, his warm breath rushing over her, “If you say anything, I will kill him. Do you understand, Raina?”

She stared at him in dazed fascination. Who was he? Where was he from? And why were some serial killers so damn attractive?

Apparently she didn’t answer him quick enough, because he gave her a little shake, tightened his already hard grip on her arms and said, “I have killed before, chica, many times. You want the death of this man on your conscience?”

His words snapped her back to reality, made her realize the severity of her situation. He’d killed before! The thought made her heart thunder against her ribcage and another surge of adrenaline to rush through her. She shook her head in a quick, no.

“Then you need to follow my lead. I was walking you back to your dormitory when we got carried away. Nothing else, understand?”

She nodded and held her breath as he leaned in to kiss her again. She felt the press of his gun against her as the guard approached. Her eyes filled with tears as she fought the desperate need to cry out for help. But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to be the cause of anyone getting hurt. Gripping her hair tightly, as though to warn her, the man turned to the guard, his entire demeanor changing from sinister to lovestruck.

“Good evening officer. Was just walking my girl back to her dorm when we started messing around. Sorry to bother you!” His voice took on a flawless American accent, losing his smooth Latin accent. She barely registered what the security guard said in response. Something about moving along. He nodded, his hair brushing her forehead, his grip still painfully tight. “Of course, sir. I’ll just see her back to her room safe and sound and be on my way.”

The guard said goodnight and moved away. Raina let out a choked sob as she watched her hope of rescue stride quickly away from them and disappear around the side of a dormitory. Her captor eased his grip and maneuvered her face away from his.

His eyes were hot on her face when he spoke. “Now, you want to stop fighting me, baby girl, or do we do this the hard way?”

She thought about her options, thought about the various possibilities involved in her kidnapping. “Fuck you!” she hissed angrily.

He chuckled and ran his thumb down her arm, where he held her. “You are just like your mother, aren’t you?”

She knew her eyes were bugging at his words. Not for one second did she think he meant her adoptive mom. No, he was talking about the woman that birthed and abandoned her. The woman Raina had spent years trying to track down. How did he know her mother? Was he going to take her to the woman?

Before Raina could ask these vitally important questions he stabbed something into her neck. “Ouch!” She reached up to touch the spot. “What did you do?”

He stood, pulling her to her feet. She swayed as dark floaties swarmed her vision. He held her tight against him, his arms wrapped around her back. Her brain was becoming fuzzy and she was starting to feel like she was floating. He turned them around and began walking, too swift for her to keep up.

“But seriously dude, what did you give me?” she asked, her voice drifting through the night. She giggled as she realized how odd her voice sounded when it was coming through a tunnel. Slurred and garbled. She doubted he even knew what she tried to say.

She stumbled against him and reached out to grab his leather jacket. He held her against his side, protectively, she thought. Which was a stupid thought. He was kidnapping her, which was hurting her to begin with. Why would he want to protect her? She tripped over a curb as they entered a parking lot and he caught her before she could fall, swinging her legs out from beneath her and holding her in his arms. She reached out to grip his shoulders, hold onto something solid and stop the spinning, but she accidentally clipped him in the jaw.

She thought he might get mad, but when he looked down at her he was grinning broadly. Both of his heads floating in her vision were smiling.

“You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you princess?”

She sighed heavily and allowed her eyelids to close, shutting out the weird floaties and his scarily handsome face. “Probably,” she whispered before passing out.

13

Vee shivered under her blanket, curling tighter against herself. It didn’t matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to get warm. As far as she was concerned Canadians were insane for embracing their frigid cold environment. She saw them, out and about, doing their daily business and playing outdoor winter sports. Packed into fluffy snow outfits like sausages. If she’d had a choice, Canada would probably not have been on her list of places to flee. At least not during the winter months.

But her choices were slim. Cuba would have been her first choice. She’d had good relations there, with Tony’s former countrymen. They hadn’t blamed her for his death. In fact, they had seen Tony as a weak leader, a man prone to vices, an embarrassment to the underworld. But she stood out in Cuba and the island wasn’t big enough for someone like her to get lost indefinitely. She couldn’t go to Mexico, at least not quickly. Not without getting in touch with one of her former contacts, someone not connected with Domingo. And she couldn’t fly out of the US, not without leaving a paper trail that she had no doubt Sotza could easily follow.

So she’d crossed the border into Canada using a fake passport and was in the process of trying to blend. It wasn’t easy laying low in a small town, a few hundred kilometres outside of St. John’s, New Brunswick. There was absolutely nothing sexy about layers but she’d quickly learned that they were essential to survival. She stood out in the town, people knowing immediately that she didn’t belong. But they greeted her friendly enough. One of the townspeople even suggested she trade in her stiletto boots for something a little hardier. She thought he was making fun of her but then he gave her directions to a store and suggested a few brands. She was pretty sure Canadians were insane, but she liked them. The ones she met so far anyway. Even the guy she rented her little cabin from came out to chop wood for her fireplace and check on her a few times a week.

It'd been two weeks since she left Miami. The only contact she made back home was with Danny. She’d begged him to come with her, or to go somewhere else. To leave the city that was now unsafe for both of them. He’d politely refused, and she’d understood. Danny’s whole life was in Florida. He was born and raised there, had a mom and sisters. A sweetheart he’d been dating for awhile. He wasn’t prepared to cut and run.

When she talked to him yesterday, Danny had given her a desperate picture of her home town. “Sotza has everyone under his control. He’s placed someone new at the top, but everyone knows that Sotza’s pulling the strings. He had Grant Shaw taken out. From the condition of the body, I’d say The Butcher did it himself.”

“Shaw isn’t exactly a loss to the world.” Vee had replied of the dead neo-Nazi, though she shuddered at the destruction Sotza was causing.

“No, Shaw was a piece of work, but Steve Cruz will be a loss.”

“What happened to Cruz?” Her stomach twisted. Cruz had been a go-with-the-flow sort of guy. A man whose loyalty floated on the breeze, toward whoever paid better and hurt less. Sotza probably picked him up on the streets, put him to work and then got rid of him when he realized Cruz was pretty useless. He’d been an incompetent idiot whenever she had to deal with him, but he hadn’t deserved to die.

“You don’t want to know,” Danny said grimly.

She inhaled sharply. No, she really didn’t want to know.

“What about you?” she asked. “I hate that I had to leave you behind. I really wish you’d reconsider coming up here to Canada. Bring your family, bring your girl. Whatever you need. But please, get out of the line of fire.”

She didn’t think she could stand to lose Danny on top of everything else. He’d been a good friend, her closest associate. A second-in-command, but also a self-appointed bodyguard. If Sotza got to Danny, Vee didn’t know what she would do.

“I’m okay,” he reiterated for about the 50th time since she’d gone into hiding. “Pretty sure The Butcher knows exactly where I am and where to find me. Hasn’t stopped by for a chat though. Which is a cause for concern.”

Vee frowned. “Why is that? If he’s leaving you alone, shouldn’t you be happy about it? No one wants a face-to-face with that guy.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about, boss. If he’s not here asking me about your whereabouts then that tells me he probably knows exactly where you are. Or at least how to find you. My guess is it’s just a matter of time before he heads up your way.”

“No,” Vee whispered.

“You need to think about your next move. Get out of there, find someplace else more remote. Someplace that no one knows about… not even me. If he gets to me I’ll try to hold out, but we’ve both seen what he’s capable of. He has ways of getting all the information he needs before sending his victims to hell.”

Tears stung her eyes. She didn’t want to lose the one connection to home she had left. The one friend who would do whatever it took to keep her safe. If, in her bid for freedom, she let Danny go, then she would be truly alone.

She swallowed and said, “I’m not ready for that yet. If he knows where to find me, why hasn’t he made a move yet? No, I’m not ready to cut ties yet.”

Danny didn’t say anything for several long minutes. She could feel his need to argue with her, but all he said was, “Just take care of yourself, boss. Keep your head up, eyes open and weapon close.”

“Always,” she promised.

“Call me tomorrow night,” he said sternly. “Mandatory check ins until you feel ready to go to ground for good.”

“Yes, boss,” she replied with a small smile.

His voice still held a note of worry. “Goodnight, Vee.”

“Goodnight, Danny. Hi to the family.”

After she ended the call, Vee stared into the darkness of the room, seeing nothing. It was always pitch black here at night unless she had the fireplace running or turned on a light. She felt bad for worrying Danny. He really was the closest thing to a best friend that she had. Besides Casey. The two women had become close in the past year, but distance kept them from seeing each other more than a few times. Perhaps she would call Danny back in the morning and let him know she was going to disappear. It would ease his mind.

She crammed one of the pillows against her stomach, tucked a hand underneath her head and drifted to sleep feeling a little safer knowing she would set a more permanent escape plan in motion.

Firelight flickered behind her closed lids, warming her chilled body. The crackling of burning wood drifted through her subconscious. She sighed, feeling more content, more comfortable than she had in a long time. As she swam gently toward wakefulness her dream world gradually melted away. She’d been dreaming that she was at lunch with Casey and the rest of their Tuesday crew. She’d hated the entire bunch of hypocritical, cynical bitches, until she got to know Casey and found a woman as damaged as herself. She’d taken the younger woman under her wing, as much as she could at the time. She would miss Casey when it came time to flee for good. But Casey was loyal to her husband, Vee couldn’t divulge her whereabouts without the information making its way back to Sotza.

As she slowly became aware it occurred to her that she hadn’t started a fire the evening before. She’d wanted to save the last of her wood for an upcoming cold snap. Her eyes flew open and she sat up in the bed, lunging for her gun on the nightstand. She searched for it, squinting at the shadows, nearly knocking over a glass of water in her frantic scramble. It was gone. Of course.

She shifted into the centre of the bed, pressing her back against the headboard. She shoved a handful of hair out of her face and yanked the quilt up her body, covering her breasts and wishing she was wearing something less revealing than the satin spaghetti strap sleep top. Her eyes travelled the room until her gaze landed on the chair that sat a few feet away from the fireplace. It had been turned so it was facing the bed. She couldn’t make him out; he was a shadowy figure and a pair of legs.

“Sotza,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. It was like seeing a phantom. A nightmare come to life. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest that it ached. She pressed a hand between her breasts to ease the feeling, the quilt still clutched against her.

“Vee.” That one syllable. His accented voice. It was like deep, dark velvet the way he caressed her name. He didn’t move, didn’t say anything else. Just sat watching her.

She wanted to say something snappy, something brave. But she was vulnerable. Alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, nearly naked. And she was desperately frightened. She had faced down bad situations, held her own among the baddest of them and kept her shit together. But Sotza was different. He couldn’t be defeated with words, with bullets or with false bravado. He saw through everything and took lives that were in his way as if they were nothing but specks of dust on his well-tailored suit.

“Are you here to kill me?” She hardly dared to breath. She had no way to fight back if he attacked her. Her only weapon was gone and she didn’t for a moment think she could match him in physical combat.

He gripped the arms of the chair and stood. She barely had time to blink and he was standing next to her, beside the bed. She flinched, tried to still the shivers that racked her body, hold the terrible fear inside.

“It has never been my intention to kill you,” he said quietly.

She swallowed and licked her lips, then turned her head to the side, looking up at him. The firelight caressed his sharp hawk-like features, making the craggy valleys of his face more pronounced. She thought maybe he hadn’t shaved in awhile, several days worth of beard growth darkened his jaw.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I was dead? You wouldn’t have to look over your shoulder, wouldn’t have to worry about me coming back to Miami, taking back what’s mine.”

His lips curved into a semi-smile at her little jab. “No, Vee, your death isn’t an option. I’ve told you this, it’s time for you to stop being afraid of me, stop running.”

She could see the dark gleam of his eyes in the flickering light, fixed on her, never wavering. “What do you want from me, Sotza?” she asked, trying to be brave.

He seemed to realize that she hadn’t meant the obvious. That she was brushing aside his standing marriage proposal and looking for a deeper explanation. “I want everything you have, everything that you are. I want everything you never gave your husband or anyone before him.”

She shuddered and curled her legs up against her chest. “You have the wrong woman. I’m not anything special and I have nothing to give you.”

He chuckled. “I won’t waste time trying flatter you, Vee. Not yet. But rest assured, you are everything I want in a woman, in a wife.”

She shook her head, her bangs flopping in her eyes. Fuck, she needed a haircut. Shoving the bangs aside she glared at him. “You’re wrong. I’ll be a terrible wife. I’ll fight you every step of the way. I’ll make your life miserable until you have no choice but to get rid of me.”

He considered her for a moment and then said, “You really don’t have much respect for your own life, do you Vee? I’m not sure if your attitude is a turn on or if it’s going to get you in trouble.”

She stared up at him. She hadn’t meant to throw attitude at him. She really wasn’t kidding when she said he would eventually want to kill her. Very few people liked Vee in the long term. Not her family, not her dead husband. She’d been completely dispensable until she took Reyes’ offer to take over the Miami underworld. She’d been mafia royalty until Sotza showed up and destroyed all of her hard work in a few short weeks, knocking her off her throne so easily.

“It will never work,” she said bitterly. “I’ll try to either kill you or run away at every opportunity.” Maybe she was stupid for verbalizing her thoughts, but Sotza saw right through her, the way he saw through everyone. He had to know that if he forced her into a union it would become all out warfare. She would make Miami look like a tense tea party.

Still, part of her looked forward to making his life miserable. She knew, no matter what she said or did in the next few minutes she would be leaving with him. She just didn’t have the tools at her disposal to get away from him. He was obviously able to track her. Hell, Danny was probably right, Sotza probably knew exactly where she was all alone. Had a bead on her, men sitting on her location, watching in case she made a move.

“I’m not going to make this easy for you,” she said stiffly, tensing her body, getting ready to fight and run.

“I wouldn’t expect this to go any other way.” His voice was a smooth caress that flowed over her skin like the satin of her pyjamas. It wasn’t fair that such a horror show should be so sexy. “You’re a fighter, Vee. The battle just makes the prize that much sweeter.”

“Don’t sound so pleased,” she snapped.

He laughed, this time the sound was full-throated, deep and mesmerizing. She had to remind herself that she was about to try to fight for her life.

“If you force me to fight you, Vee, I will be taking a kiss for my efforts.”

She snorted at the old-fashioned, chauvinistic logic. “Try it and I’ll bite your tongue off.”

“I have no doubt you’ll try,” he replied easily.

Neither of them made a move as they watched each other in the shadowy room, the crackle of the fire as loud as a gunshot in the silence. Fear overwhelmed her, along with a healthy, if belated, shot of adrenaline. She recognized this moment as the turning point that it was. Her life was about to change. If Sotza took her away with him her life would no longer belong to herself. He’d take away her independence, she’d lose the freedom to make her own decisions. She would be trapped in another mafia marriage. She feared this one would prove more terrifying, more agonizing than the last one she’d endured.

“You won’t stop will you?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

He didn’t answer her question. Instead he said, “It’s time to go, Vee.”

14

Sotza lunged for Vee, so fast she barely registered what was happening. One moment he was standing beside her, talking leisurely as though he had all the time in the world. Next moment he was on top of her, crushing her into the mattress, immobilizing her. She tried to fight, she really did, but it was like a huge sack full of bricks had dropped on her. Vee was small and sleight, but she liked to think she knew how to throw her weight around like it meant something. Sotza quickly proved otherwise, pinning her arms against her body and holding her with a ruthless ease.

“Get off me!” she snarled. “You weigh a fucking ton.”

“Are you going to stop fighting?” he asked, easing his weight slightly, but not moving off her. She was trapped under his tall, wiry frame with no way out.

“Yes,” she hissed, lying, quite literally, to his face. “What’s the point in a struggle. We both know you’ll win.”

He studied her, his face mere inches from hers. The subtle spicy smell of his cologne touched her senses, making her stomach feel like jelly. “I don’t believe you, Vee,” he said, his voice growing deeper. She was affecting him. Her body under his, her nearness.

Her mouth watered as she studied his firm lips. She had to give herself a quick mental shake. She absolutely could not lust after the psycho killer. “What do I have to gain by fighting you?” she asked, her own voice husky now.

“Everything,” he said, his grip on her arms tightening in warning as he lowered his head. “You have everything to gain by fighting and everything to gain by surrendering. You see, my lovely lady, the end will be the same no matter what you do. I take you, I keep you, you belong to me.”

She opened her mouth to tell him to fuck off, but like the hawk he resembled, he swooped, taking her lips in a kiss that shook her to her core. This was no subtle touching of mouths, no gentle exploration. This was a claiming. His lips crushed hers, his tongue invading her mouth, stealing everything she refused to give. Sotza was telling her without words that she was done running and that he was dictating her future now.

Fuck that! She was not about to become the conquest of yet another mob boss. Another man who would use her for sex and set her up as a trophy.

She snapped her teeth together in an attempt to sink them into his tongue. He anticipated her move though and retreated for a few seconds, long enough to bring his hand up and grip her jaw in a bruising hold, forcing her mouth open. She let out a garbled protest, but he swallowed the sound in another kiss, this one more intense, more brutal than the last. This was not the prelude to a lover’s tryst, this was war. He was raping her mouth, telling her exactly how things would stand between them.

Tears formed in her eyes. She struggled for breath whenever he gave her the opportunity, sucking in quick gasps before he once more settled his mouth over hers, punishing her. He didn’t explore her body, didn’t tear her clothes away, as she halfway expected. He just assaulted her mouth until she stopped struggling. Once she lay unmoving beneath him, the fight stolen from her, he relaxed the brutality of his kisses, softening them. He still held her jaw immobile, open for his use, but some of her fear ebbed as his kisses turned more playful, more passionate. Like he was rewarding her for not fighting him.

He kissed her lips, licked the inside of her mouth, her teeth, everything. Then he finally allowed his grip to relax, his lips trailing heated kisses across her cheek to her ear and down her neck. Heat flooded her, a warm melting sensation in her stomach.

He lifted his head, looked down at her. His thumb caressed her face, sliding from her chin to her stinging lips. There was a flash of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by a hardening of resolve. His cool, authoritarian façade dropped for a moment and she saw the man beneath The Butcher, saw his need to possess her and own her in those soulless depths. But it was that fleeting moment of surprise that terrified her. Her heart beat a frightened tattoo against her chest as they studied each other. She wondered if he would decide he didn’t want her, didn’t want this. That she’d been fine as the ice queen that would stand at his side, but now that he discovered fire between them, he was having second thoughts.

Finally, after minutes had passed, he spoke. “You have everything to gain by coming to me willingly, Vee. I can give you the world.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she tensed. Far from being too freaked out to follow through on his grand plans involving her, he now seemed even more determined to have her. For a split second she thought about the possibilities of what he asked, thought about what life could be like at his side, his queen, his wife.

But no, eventually he would hurt her like Tony did. Memories of the subjugation and pain flooded through her, fresh, as though it had all happened yesterday. She’d known every kind of pain there was to know at Tony’s hands. She’d discovered a depth of hatred, directed at both her late husband and herself, that she hadn’t known existed. And most of it had hit her after his death, after she’d sobered up. The sharp sting of pain was so much more real when there were no substances to mitigate the awful feelings.

She narrowed her eyes at the man who held her down, tried to force her acceptance and dictate her future. “Fuck you,” she hissed, reaching up with the hand he was no longer pinning to the bed and taking a handful of his hair. She yanked his head back as hard as she could. He was caught by surprise, his head following the movement of her fist so he didn’t lose a bunch of hair in her vicious hold. She reached behind herself, gripping the hilt of the knife she’d strapped in a short leather sheath against the small of her back. She brought the knife between them and placed it against his jugular. She’d been waiting for this moment, waiting for him to get close enough that she could pull her ace. “I’m not going anywhere with you. You’ll have to kill me first.”

15

Vee suspected Sotza could easily overpower her, snap her neck before she even knew what was happening. She saw it in his eyes. Saw it, digested it, and still pressed the tip of the knife against his throat. Fuck it. If she was going down, at the very least she was going to spill a few drops of his blood in the process.

He didn’t give her a chance. He twisted away from the knife is one fast, fluid motion. Brutally gripped her wrist, lifted himself slightly and flipped her, forcing her stomach to the mattress, her face smashed into the pillow. He yanked the blankets away from her body, uncovering her sleep top, which was shoved halfway up her back exposing the sheath, and her brief silk shorts. He twisted her arm behind her back, pressing the knife between her shoulder blades before coming down on top of her again. He lay across her body, full weight against her. She held her breath, keenly aware that the sharp blade of the knife was pressed between them, not cutting, but oh so close.

Vee whimpered softly. She didn’t want to die, not really. She was only 37 years old. Though she’d lived a lifetime in those years, she also felt like she hadn’t lived at all. Hadn’t travelled, hadn’t known true love, didn’t get to finish her run as mafia queen. Although, if she died today, she would really only have one regret.

Sotza leaned harder into her, crushing the breath from her chest. He pulled her hair to the side, away from her face, his touch oddly gentle, incongruent with the violence of their exchange. “I would prefer my new bride to come with me undamaged, all of her fingers intact.”

Vee grunted and tried to wiggle, but his weight overwhelmed her. She couldn’t move an inch. She couldn’t even draw in enough breath for a scathing retort. Instead, she was forced to lay beneath him and draw in quick, shallow breaths. Time slowed. Spots began to swarm her vision and she feared she would pass out if he didn’t move.

Finally, he eased his weight just enough for her to draw breath. She wanted to swear at him, to keep fighting, even if it was just verbally. But good sense prevailed and she kept her mouth shut.

“Give me the blade, Vee,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. His breath tickled her ear and sent a shiver through her.

She nodded slightly, the movement causing his chin to brush her neck. The intimacy was getting to her. Her body was responding to him. She knew if she checked her panties she’d find herself wet. What was it about these violent pricks that turned her on so much? At least her head knew better than to get involved with this one.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Move your heavy ass and it’s all yours.”

He shifted, leaning the top of his body slightly to the side. He still held her arm wrenched up her back, his long fingers wrapped tight around her wrist. She could feel the tensile strength in his hold. Could feel the depth of his control. He could so easily snap her wrist or break her arm. Yet, though his grip was firm, she didn’t feel in danger of an injury. It chilled her to the bone that Sotza knew exactly how and where to apply pressure. He would know how to make his victims suffer, draw out the pain while keeping them alive for torture.

“Slowly now,” he commanded her.

Vee was both glad and annoyed at the healthy respect he was showing for her ability and willingness to cut him. If he was wary of her then he’d keep a close eye on her and she might never get the opportunity to murder him. She opened her fingers one at a time, releasing the blade. He took it from her. She heard the clatter of it hitting the floor as he tossed it off the side of the bed. He took her wrist and pulled her arm around to her side and then up by her head. She was surprised when he didn’t let her go, move away and get on with her kidnapping. Instead he spread his fingers over top of hers and linked their hand. He shifted his body on top of her, took her other hand and did the same thing, bringing it up beside her head and linking their fingers.

That moment, them together, the fire crackling in the background casting warm, flickering shadows across the walls, could have been the most romantic moment of her life. If he wasn’t such a fucking psycho. As they lay together, breathing together, the heat of their bodies mingling, all she could think was, what’s next? Was he going to haul her out of there, take her back to Miami? Or maybe Venezuela?

“We should be together, Vee,” he said quietly, speaking in her ear again, his chin resting against the side of her head. “Don’t you see how good we’d be? How powerful? You’re smart, beautiful and kind. You would complement me in every way.”

Vee let out a breathless laugh. “Kind?” she gasped. He was back to crushing her again, although not quite as much as before. “You did see what I did to Luis before you decapitated him, right?”

“So you can hold your own, make tough decisions when needed. We both know, as a leader, you should’ve killed Luis, made an example of the man. He wavered in his loyalties. I had your back on that one, made sure his loyalty was unquestionable.”

“You’re a fucking serial killer is what you are!” she hissed. “You kill them if they remain loyal and you kill them if they switch sides. No one stood a chance when you decided to take my city.”

“All is fair –”

“I swear to god if you say ‘all’s fair in love and war’ I will find the super human strength to get you off my back and stab the shit out of you.”

He chuckled. “And a sense of humour, Vee. You’re the whole package.” He moved, sliding to her side and sitting up. She tried to roll away from him, but he grabbed hold of her and flipped her onto her back, pinning her arms over her head. She glared at him, the fight reigniting in her eyes. He narrowed his eyes and frowned. “No more, Vee. I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this! If you think I’m the whole package,” she said scathingly, “then why don’t you let me have Miami back? You can set me back up as the queen and then have my back when I need it. We could’ve done that in the first place, saved all this drama, saved those lives.”

“It’s too late,” he said, his voice a low rumble as his eyes were drawn to her exposed stomach, where her top had ridden up. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “Perfect curves, silky skin.”

“It’s not too late!” she cried out. “What do you want from me? I’ll give it to you. Do you want to fuck? We can do that, just promise you’ll let me go.”

He gave her a chiding look. “You are worth so much more than just a fuck, Vee. Don’t underestimate yourself.”

She blew her bangs out of her face, annoyed and frustrated, still a little afraid, although she was about ready to believe he had no intention of killing her. “I’m worth exactly what I say I’m worth,” she snarled. “Wouldn’t be the first time I traded sex for favours.”

He stared down at her, his gaze heated. She didn’t know what he was thinking. If he was pissed off, pitying, contemptuous. Finally, he replied, “I really think you believe that.”

“Of course I do!” she said, yanking on her wrists, trying to free them from his grip. “I used to fuck Tony for all kinds of things. Jewelry, money, drugs, the right to breathe.”

His fingers tightened around her hands. He hadn’t liked that. “I meant,” he said, his voice taking on a hard edge, “that you believe you aren’t worth much.”

She frowned. What the fuck was this? A therapy session? Was he trying to raise her sense of self-worth, give the old self-esteem a boost? “You’re a strange man,” she said drily. “Fine, I’m worth a lot. Like, how about a city? Yeah, I’m probably worth the cost of Miami.”

He chuckled and then stopped, looked surprised. When he looked down at her it was with a peculiar expression, soft, determined, caring. It made her heart trip. “Vee, mi amor, you make me laugh. I don’t do that enough.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, asshole.”

“You don’t have to try to be anything, Elvira. You just are,” he said.

“Don’t call me that!” she practically shouted. “And can we please get on with this, whatever it is. My arms are getting sore from being wrenched around and held down so much.”

His lips curved up and he released her hands. “Whatever the lady wishes.”

Vee snorted and brought her arms down. She shoved herself up the mattress, pressing her back against the headboard. “This lady wants you to die. Immediately, if it’s not too inconvenient.”

He laughed again and reached for her knife, turning his back on her for a second. She eyed the spot right between his shoulder blades. If she had a second knife that’s exactly where it would go.

He turned back to her, gave her tiny pyjamas another heated look and said, “You’ll need to get changed. All that bare skin will freeze in this climate. Frankly, I’m a little shocked that you chose Canada as an escape. It’s vast, easy to get lost, I’ll give you that. But is it worth trying to survive in a frozen wasteland?”

“I happen to love it here,” she gritted, ignoring the inner voice that agreed with him completely. The one upside of his kidnapping her is she was pretty sure he was going to take her back south. Still, she wasn’t going to give him an inch. “Very fucking beautiful.”

She got off the bed cautiously, halfway expecting him to yank her back. He allowed her to stand, following her movements as she paced to the wardrobe and started pulling out clothing. A pair of jeans, a hooded sweater, a pair of panties, bra and socks. When she turned back to him and raised an eyebrow he made no move to leave.

“I’m not changing with you here.”

He stood, his tall frame towering next to the bed. “Then you’ll be leaving dressed like that. It’s going to be a cold trip, but my men will enjoy the view.”

Hatred burned in her chest. She wanted to scream at him, lash out and strike him. If she thought she had even a remote chance of landing a blow she might’ve done it. Instead, she reminded herself that she was a mature adult and that one of these days the tables would be turned. He’d turn his back on her at the wrong time, in the wrong place and she would take extreme pleasure in taking him out.

“I can see your thoughts, my dear.” He didn’t sound angry though. He sounded like he was anticipating her rage, revelling in the experience.

“You are a twisted man,” she growled and yanked on the jeans. She decided against the bra since she had no intention of baring herself in front of him. She was small-chested anyway, didn’t need to wear a bra all the time. She pulled the sweater over her head and then sat on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as she could get, to put her socks on.

When she finished and looked up, he was standing in front of her reaching a hand out to her. She ignored it and stood on her own, stepping quickly to the side. He didn’t stop her as she left the bedroom.

“Coat and boots,” he told her, following her into the main room. “Wear all of your new winter gear. You’ll need it for the ride to the airport. We have to drive into St. John’s before we can fly out.”

“A little midnight cross-country kidnapping,” she grumbled as she sat on the bench next to the door to pull her boots on. “Sure, why not, why don’t you maim a few people while you’re up here? Really make a vacation out of it. Show Canada who The Butcher is and why he has such a devastating reputation.”

“Vee,” he said her name warningly. “You don’t want to cross the line with me.”

She stood up and yanked her fluffy winter cherry red parka on. She probably needed a few lessons in the art of blending in, but Vee was never one to follow the pack. When she was ready to go, she stood toe-to-toe with Sotza, glaring up at him. This close, without her signature heels, he towered over her.

“You know what, Sotza?” she snarled, poking him in the chest. “You obliterated the line when you came after me, took my city apart and killed half my town. I don’t fucking care about crossing the line with you. In fact, I anticipate it with pleasure.”

Instead of responding to her angry tirade, he caught her hand before she could storm out the door. He fished into his pocket and pulled the engagement ring he’d given her back in Miami, brought her hand up between them and pushed it onto her finger. “This doesn’t come off again, comprende?”

For once, she didn’t argue. His grim expression told her the consequences would be severe.

16

“You need to eat.”

Raina clenched her fist around her fork and glowered at Mateo who was sitting to her left at the head of the table. It’d been nearly a week since her kidnapping. The most she’d gotten out of her captor was his name and that they were waiting for her mother to arrive. She had gleaned a hell of a lot more all by herself, since Mateo’s default setting seemed to be silence, even though she taunted him and pushed him at every opportunity.

Raina was pretty sure she’d been taken far south. When she’d woken up she’d found herself on board a private airplane, flying a long way from Pennsylvania. Probably Central or South America given his accent and the easy Spanish that flowed among the house staff when they spoke around her. She figured out that she was staying in the main house or mansion or whatever they called this crazy big house, but there were other buildings on the property. She assumed Mateo lived in one of the other buildings because he didn’t stay in the house with her. She wasn’t allowed to explore beyond the gardens surrounding the house. And she always had an armed escort to ensure she complied. Near as she could tell Mateo was some kind of temporary babysitter, though given his stature and the fearful respect he received from other staff she assumed he did other, more important things with his time.

After a week of watching routines, inspecting the house and gardens and watching the people within, Raina was fairly certain she could escape. Two things stopped her. She still didn’t have a damn clue where she was or how far from civilization she’d been taken. It would majorly suck if she managed to escape only to die in some jungle. The other reason she stayed was because she knew her mother was flying in soon. Though she wanted to be indifferent to her womb donor, she was curious. She had questions to ask and things to say before she was ready to walk away from the woman.

Raina dropped the fork, crossed her arms over her chest and said haughtily, “Eating would imply I condone this kidnapping.” She gave him a cold stare. “In case you’re in doubt, I really don’t.”

He stared boldly back at her, his tanned face emotionless. There was a gleam of something in his dark eyes. She thought maybe appreciation, though she hoped for annoyance. “You don’t look starved to me, chica.”

She glowered. “Are you calling me fat, chico?”

He laughed. “Hardly.” His eyes roved over her sleight curves.

Of course, he wasn’t calling her fat, she barely weighed 115 lbs. She’d been small all her life. Unhappily she’d given up waiting for her boobs to come in about a year ago.

“I mean you look strong enough to me, Señorita. Like you’ve been getting into the kitchen perhaps, eating plenty.”

“And perhaps I simply don’t enjoy enforced mealtimes with the fucker who kidnapped me.”

The smile left his face. He lifted his napkin and dabbed it against his lips. “I will have the kitchen locked up at night, staff will be instructed that you are not to be fed unless it is at the table.”

She tilted her head, long hair sweeping against the back of the chair. “That’s a nasty move, Mateo. Really beneath you, I think.”

“Oh, Señorita Raina, you have no idea how low I can sink.” The look on his face told her he was more than happy to show her just how mean he could be, should she step too far out of line.

“I would really prefer to eat on my own, in my room. Is my company at the evening meal really worth all this?” she asked.

“Absolutamente.” His low voice sent a shiver right down her back.

She gripped the edge of her seat and watched him warily. Raina wasn’t a naïve girl. Though she hadn’t experienced much of the world in her 19 years, she had eyes, attitude and a good solid brain. She knew how things worked. Yet with Mateo she couldn’t figure out what he wanted. One moment she would catch him watching her, intently, maybe lustfully. The next she thought he might want to get his hands on her for another, more violent reason.

He was an intense man. Good-looking in a hard, rugged way. He moved with ease, yet his movements had purpose. As though he thought everything through at lightning speed and then executed. She’d discovered, when he kidnapped her from the campus, just how fast and ruthless he could be. Yet, he hadn’t touched her since their arrival. She got this impending sense that he was simply waiting… for something. Probably her mother’s arrival, but she couldn’t figure out why unless her mother had ordered Raina’s abduction. God, she hoped not. She didn’t need another reason to hate the woman.

She stared down at the food, convinced that he would indeed starve her into submission. If she was smart she would start eating. Still, Raina had never been one to go the easy way. The way people wanted her to go. In fact, the more she felt pushed into something, the less likely she was to do it.

“You ever seen Beauty and the Beast?” she asked. “The Beast tries to starve Beauty unless she agrees to eat with him.”

“Interesting,” he said. “And how does this tale end? Did she die of starvation?”

Raina smirked. “No, the manor staff fed her behind his back. They nourished the heroine when the villain refused her basic sustenance.”

“The difference,” he drawled, “between fairy-tale and reality is that the staff here are human, not clocks and candlesticks. They can bleed, they can hurt and they can die. Very easily, mia chica. These people, they will not help you. They know the consequences of disobeying my orders.”

Her mouth went dry and she had to take a quick swallow of water from the crystal goblet in front of her. “So you know the story,” she snapped, avoiding eye contact. “Could’ve just said in the first place.”

“But I do enjoy sparring with you, sweet Raina.”

Her nostrils flared and she glared hard at the table, still refusing to look up at him. He’d shaken her. She had her suspicions, from the way Mateo spoke, the movements of the staff, the armed guards and they’re location, deep in some kind of jungle well south of the US. Mafia. It was the only thing that made sense. The careless way Mateo spoke of torturing the mansion staff. The ease in which he’d kidnapped her. She thought, maybe she’d somehow gotten caught up in the underworld scene. Who exactly was her mother?

“I think your master will not be pleased with my treatment under your care, Mateo.” She was making a leap in logic, thinking Mateo wasn’t the one who’d had her kidnapped, that maybe he wasn’t the head honcho. Though he was strong, smart and capable enough. “Careful, or I might tell him exactly how you’re mistreating me.”

He dropped his napkin on the table and stood. It took him barely a second and he was right next to her chair, overwhelming her with his size, his scent, his essence. She sat stiffly in her chair, determined not to move. His chin was inches from the top of her head. “No man is my master.”

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, ruffling the fine blond strands. He straightened and strode from the room. She stared after him, for some stupid reason looking forward to their next encounter, the next meal.

She eyed the food in front of her, Atlantic salmon with a dill sauce, sweet peas and herbed rice. It looked delicious, but she’d lost her appetite. She dropped her own napkin on the table and pushed her chair back. It seemed as though she would just have wait until the arrival of her mother. She wasn’t getting a damn thing out of Mateo. No matter which way she baited him, the bastard simply wouldn’t give.

17

“This isn’t Miami,” Vee observed, watching from the window as Sotza’s private jet prepared to land. She felt the gentle thump of the wheels lowering.

“You are correct,” Sotza said from beside her, not looking up from his laptop. He’d been on it since shortly after their take-off from St. John’s. He’d seated her, ensured her comfort and introduced her to the flight attendant. Though he didn’t bother to introduce her to the five or six guys sitting further back on the plane. They in turn didn’t look up when Vee was escorted onto the aircraft.

Vee eyed the mountainous rainforest-like land surrounding the small airport. “Pretty sure this isn’t Venezuela either. We haven’t been in the air long enough.”

Sotza closed his laptop and tucked it away into the leather laptop bag. He leaned into her, forcing her to shift away, closer to the window. He glanced past her, out the window and said, “Your knowledge of geography is exemplary, my dear.”

She wanted to scratch his eyes out every time he said something in that deep dry voice with his British accent. It was like being mocked, but so subtly she barely noticed. She suspected this was just Sotza though. He appeared gentlemanly and mild-mannered. Until it was time to go to work.

Two could play that game. Vee was nobody’s fool. She had a good, smart head and she could be as much of an asshole as him. “Putting my excellent knowledge of geography to good use,” she said coolly leaning toward the window again and studying the landscape. “I would say we’re probably in Mexico. Maybe somewhere in the Durango region.”

He looked somewhat impressed. “Well done my dear, but no, we are currently landing in the state of Sinaloa, though we’re very close to the Durango border.”

She should have known. “Business,” she muttered.

“Indeed,” he said, reaching over to fasten her seatbelt as the plane began sharply descending. “We need to refuel somewhere and, since Domingo is no longer an appropriate Mexican contact, I had to find someone else. I will also be discussing business here, with this contact, mitigating some of the damage on the East coast.”

Vee rolled her eyes and tried to shove his hands away, but he persisted until she was properly belted in. “It’s a little hard for Domingo to do much of anything without his head. Good move there, Sotza.”

“You couldn’t control the man,” Sotza said sternly. “He insulted you at every turn and gave his people orders to attack you. His life could no longer be sanctioned.”

“God help anyone that looks at you funny,” she muttered, staring hard out the window as the plane landed on the runway with a slight bump. From her vantage point, it looked like there were several vehicles further up the runway, ready to meet the plane. Sotza had clearly organized this meeting ahead of time.

“Are you afraid of me, Vee?” Sotza asked gently.

She turned to give him a scathing look, but it fell away as she was forced to take in his regal, rugged features. The seriousness of his expression, the hidden depths buried in his enigmatic gaze. She took in a sharp breath and decided to tell him the truth. “Yes, of course I’m afraid of you. Anyone with half a brain would be. You cause a wake of destruction everywhere you go, but you do it in such a way that everything is perfectly organized to your specifications once the dust has settled. It’s a terrifying prospect to be your captive.”

He reached out and ran his thumb over her lips and down to her chin, pinching it slightly before dropping his hand. “The world can fear me, Vee. In fact, the world should fear me. I will rip it to shreds one piece at a time to get at what I want. And I’ll enjoy every moment,” he said, a small flicker of savage emotion deep in his dark brown eyes. “But you will never have need to fear me.”

She studied him for a moment. “Then let me go.”

He unbuckled his seatbelt and stood. She realized the plane had stopped and unbuckled her own belt. He stood in front of her, blocking her path. “Never that, Vee,” he said, reaching out a hand to help her up. “Don’t ask again.”

“Fine, I won’t ask again. I’ll just leave.”

She ignored his hand and slipped quickly past him, pushing herself awkwardly to the side to avoid touching him. He took her arm and swung her around until she was facing him. He allowed his mask to slip, let her see some of the things he shielded from the world, his savagery, his obsessive determination to own everything around him. She shivered and tried to step back but he followed her, pressed her against the side of plane. She was forced to curve herself into the small space.

“My patience isn’t endless,” he said quietly. “Step carefully, Vee. Leaving me will never be an option, not now and not in our future.”

She didn’t respond at first. How could she? She certainly didn’t agree with his statement. She’d be leaving him at the very first opportunity. But she also suspected she was dancing close to the edge of his patience. The face he projected to the world was of a man whose calm was eternal. But she was beginning to see the man underneath. He was so much more, so much worse than anyone suspected. She needed to know the worst.

“Or what, Sotza? What will you do to me if I leave?”

His answer was immediate, telling her that he never doubted the course he set his actions on. He was as decisive as he was brutal. “I will find you, kill anyone and everyone that helped you. Then hunt and kill everyone you know until I’m certain there’s no one left to help you leave. I will make sure that you are so dependent on me that every thought in your head must first be filtered through me.”

She gaped up at him as he allowed his terrifying words to settle in, then pulled her out of the corner and tucked her loosely against his side. Even though she had room for movement, could step away if she wanted, his hand wrapped around her arm was unbreakable. He led her to the exit door, which had been opened by the flight attendant. They left the plane together, side by side, a united front. She suspected this was on purpose as there were several men, Mexicans she thought, standing nearby, eyeing them with speculation.

Sotza leaned into her, bending his head until his lips brushed the top of her ear. “You need to follow my lead. These men cannot for one moment believe that you don’t belong to me.”

Vee glanced at the AK-47’s held by some of the men in the group. A show of force, but the loose way in which they were held, pointed at the ground, told her the cartel didn’t see them as a threat. Had they never heard of Sotza before? “I’m not stupid, Sotza. I’m not going to draw any unnecessary attention to our situation. Jumping from your care into a Mexican cartel doesn’t seem like a smooth move.”

“Not stupid,” he agreed. “But sometimes reckless with an alarming disregard for your own safety.”

She gritted her teeth but refused to respond. In fact, she thought she had a healthy respect for her own life. It’s just that some things were more important. The lives of her friends, the safety of her home town. Perhaps Sotza couldn’t identify because he’d never had anything he cared enough about to put ahead of his own health. Then again, the man was indestructible. A legend, practically a phantom in the way he worked. One moment there, attacking with speed and brutal precision, the next, gone, a path of devastation behind him.

Vee turned her attention to the man who had stepped out from the group of Mexicans. He was not quite what she was used to when it came to cartel leaders in this part of the world. He wasn’t fat, wasn’t dressed any differently from his men. He was tall, built strong, his skin deeply tanned, tattoos covering most of the visible parts of his body. The only thing that stood out on him was his arrogance. It showed in the way he stood, the boldness of his gaze as he watched Vee and Sotza approach.

Vee was somewhat surprised when a grin broke across his face, transforming him from brutal leader to carefree man. He spoke Spanish, directing his comments to Sotza. “My old friend, I am proud to have you in my home.”

Sotza released Vee and the two men embraced. The other man kept his hand on Sotza’s back. Vee was astonished. She didn’t think Sotza liked being touched. As long as she’d known him, she was pretty sure she was the only person he’d touched. Weird. She’d gotten the impression that Sotza wasn’t close to their host. Why was he insisting on a united front when he knew this other man? Why not tell him that she was his unwilling prisoner? She was starting to wonder if Sotza had used this meeting as an excuse to keep her in line. Or did he genuinely have business?

“And who is this?” The Mexican asked, turning to Vee. “Muy bonito.”

Sotza stepped back toward Vee and wrapped his arm around her waist. He gave the other man a mildly stern look and said simply, “This is my fiancé.”

Ignoring Sotza’s ‘stay away from her’ signals, the man took Vee’s hand and squeezed it, smiling down at her. She really wished she had her heels on. She didn’t trust this man and didn’t like being a solid foot shorter than him. Even with heels she wouldn’t close the gap, but she would narrow it. There was some power to be had in a snazzy outfit that told men she was both equal and all business.

“You are a lovely woman,” he said to her in rapid Spanish, his eyes twinkling. “You should leave Senor Sotza, come spend some time with me. My home is beautiful and I am very rich, easily able to afford a woman of your obvious good tastes.” Despite his warm reception, she didn’t for one second believe he wouldn’t gut her if things went sideways. She wanted to roll her eyes and snort. She was still wearing jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and boots. Good taste, right.

Vee glanced curiously at Sotza to see how he was taking the Mexican’s flirtation. He didn’t look visibly moved, but she felt a stirring tension about him, a readiness to strike when and if necessary. She didn’t get the sense that the Mexican was flirting in any real sense anyway. Almost like he was playing a game, trying to nudge Sotza.

“I am Nicolás Garza, but you may call me Nico,” he took her arm and waved them toward the vehicles. Since Sotza maintained his silence, Vee went easily with Nico, Sotza following behind them.

“Vee Montana,” she murmured, watching him carefully.

A flicker of recognition passed across his face before he shuttered his response. He looked down at her, more carefully, guarded. He studied her. “Lately of Miami, Florida?” he asked, a new sharpness to his voice.

Before Vee could respond, Sotza reacted, taking Vee’s arm from Nico and tugging her back to stand next to him. They stopped at the vehicle. One of Nico’s men was holding the door open. Rather than get in, the three stood in tense silence. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the gunmen become more alert as the mood of their leader shifted. Then she noticed Sotza’s people had followed them off the airplane and stood at their backs. She barely dared breathe. She’d been in tense situations before, negotiating, renegotiating and having to turn down bad trade deals. But she’d always been in control, able to talk her way out of a situation before it flared into something more. Only the Mexicans had openly challenged her.

“My fiancé is late of Miami, si.” Sotza stressed the word fiancé as though it held more power than her actual name. She supposed time would tell which was more important to Nico, good relations with The Butcher or getting to the woman that wasn’t well loved among his compatriots. “As my wife she will soon become a permanent citizen of Venezuela.”

Vee stiffened slightly but kept her mouth shut. He just answered one of her questions, where he was going to take her to live. She’d suspected it was deep in the Venezuelan jungle but hoped he might decide to settle in the US. She should have known better.

Finally, after a nerve-wracking minute of silence, Nico studying Vee from top to bottom, his gaze speculative and cold, Sotza’s arm tightening around Vee, Nico nodded at the vehicle and turned, striding around the other side. Vee released the breath she’d been holding and side-eyed the guys with the AK’s. They seemed to relax a little. Her palms were sweating as she reached for the door and shifted her body to half face Sotza. She looked up into his grim face.

“What was that?” Vee asked quietly as they slipped into the vehicle.

“He’s trying to decide if he wants to fuck you, marry you or kill you. Perhaps all three,” he said, climbing into the vehicle after her.

The breath caught in her throat and for a moment she was tempted to climb over her ‘fiancé’ and run back to the airplane. Then she remembered who she was. She was nobody’s bitch. She was a motherfucking mafia queen. She murmured, just before Nico slid in through the other door, taking the seat directly next to Vee, “I don’t support any of the above, just so you know. He doesn’t look like the marrying kind.”

Sotza flashed her a quick smile as Nico waved for his driver to get moving. “Neither was I, but you’ve worn me down.”

18

They put her in the same room as Sotza. Of course they did. He requested it, and when Sotza made a request it became a demand. She hadn’t said anything as the female servant escorted Vee and two of Sotza’s men to the big, lush bedroom. The men stayed outside the room while the servant showed Vee around. A large canopy bed took up a good portion of the suite and there was a washroom off the bedroom with a large whirlpool tub, a shower and a private toilet. Vee didn’t know what was going on, how long they were staying, how long she would be forced to stay in Nico’s villa, feeling threatened and on edge.

Vee didn’t like not knowing things. She had grown fond of ruling her own destiny. Not knowing what was happening or what might become of her made Vee feel stabby. She decided if Sotza touched her, even a little, she would stab the shit out of him. No, if he even looked at her in a way she didn’t like she was going to stab him.

That thought made her feel better as the serving woman retreated and Vee was left on her own. The first thing she did was check the door, it was unlocked. Then checked the guards. Yup, still there. As she closed the door and turned back to the room she decided she was grateful for the men on the other side of the door, even if they belonged to Sotza. At the very least they would alert her if danger was approaching.

In that case, she would stab whoever came through the door.

Vee walked toward the bed, noting a suitcase on top. It was purple so she was pretty sure it wasn’t Sotza’s. She opened it cautiously and then tossed the top back when she realized it was filled with women’s clothing. They didn’t belong to her as she was forced to leave most of her stuff in Miami and the rest in Canada. She frowned as she lifted a cashmere tank top fringed in delicate lace around the collar. Tossing that aside she began digging in earnest. She came up with several more tops, a few pairs of jeans, some black leggings, a pair of shorts and a pencil skirt. There were also several pairs of lacy panties and two bras that matched the underwear. At the bottom was a pair of four-inch heeled stilettos. The heels were made of sterling silver.

She didn’t need to check the tags, she knew everything in the suitcase would fit her. Was purchased for her, the store tags still attached. Her heart did a tiny stutter as she tried to decide what it meant. When did he get her this stuff? At what point had Sotza decided she would need a new wardrobe? Or a partial new wardrobe, she thought, eyeing the contents critically. But what disturbed her the most was the accuracy in style. Everything in the suitcase was something she would definitely wear. The clothes reflected her style – business sexy, no-nonsense, semi-functional. But ultimately the outfit was secondary to the attitude of the woman wearing it. And Vee, well, she had an unlimited supply of attitude. She knew how to own her role, give as good as she got. She snorted and turned away from the suitcase. Except where Sotza was concerned.

Vee wandered idly around the room, restless and annoyed. It bothered her that Sotza and Nico were doing business without her. Though she thought she understood the reason for her exclusion. She wasn’t exactly safe in Mexico. Not until they established a new trading partner and tensions with Domingo’s cartel eased. The cartels didn’t typically work too close together, in fact, they were at war with each other more often than not. She was probably reasonably safe, locked away in Nico’s compound.

Vee just hoped she wasn’t being excluded because she was a woman. Because Sotza imagined they were about to be married. She would have to gut him in a particularly painful way if he thought she was going to stand down and became the barefoot, pretty arm candy type. She’d tried the trophy wife thing with Tony. It hadn’t worked out - mostly for him.

She wandered into the bathroom and took a closer look. It was every woman’s dream. Clean, light, sparkly and big. A jetted whirlpool tub took up a good portion of the space with a spotless cubicle rain shower right next to it. The toilet was in its own spacious closet and the vanity had two sinks. The space was awash in white marble. She had to admit, Nico had good taste.

She looked longingly at the tub. It had been an age since she’d been able to just sit and soak away her tensions. She felt hot and sticky from travelling between climates and sitting on an airplane for so many hours. But did she have enough time to bathe and change before Sotza appeared? Vee thought she probably did. Negotiations always took time. The men would talk, smoke and drink. She could afford to take some time to herself. It wasn’t like she had anything else to do.

She reached for the hem of her shirt, but stopped, glancing around, toward the ceiling. Would Nico install cameras in his guest suites? Probably, she decided. But she couldn’t see them if they were there. Did she care? Not really. Vee wasn’t a shy woman. She’d changed in front of men all the time. Swiftly stripping down after a job along with her men. It had been impersonal. She was their boss.

She flung her shirt to the floor and reached for the button on her jeans. When her clothes were off she turned on the water, making it was hot as she thought she could handle. She sifted through the bath accessories and chose a strawberry scented bubble bath, adding a large dose to the streaming water. While the tub filled she went through the basket of women’s products on the vanity and opened all the drawers, snooping through everything. After her inspection she decided that if Nico wanted to marry her, she would accept. His taste in décor and women’s things were spectacular. Somehow, she didn’t think Sotza would be nearly as attuned to a woman’s desires. She pictured him in a cold, gothic mansion with dark furnishings and secret passages.

Vee brushed her straight, blond hair with a hairbrush and then piled it on top of her head so it wouldn’t get wet. She dropped into the tub with a sigh, grateful that she was able to sit facing the open doorway. She picked up the white loufa and sponged her limbs caressing her skin with careful attention. It felt heavenly to simply sit still and pamper herself. When she finished washing she leaned back until her head rested against the porcelain, closed her eyes and tried to let everything go. Life was beyond her control right at this moment, there was no point in worrying or she would drive herself crazy.

She wished she’d thought to light the candles she found in one of the drawers. The ambience would be so much nicer without the bright overhead lights. She was idly wondering if there was nail polish to be found, she didn’t remember seeing any, when Sotza stepped into the bathroom.

“If I’d known I would be coming back to this I would’ve left Garza earlier.”

He was like a cat, she decided. Silent, swift and with no sense of boundaries. Without opening her eyes, she said, “You can leave now.”

She hoped when she opened her eyes he would be gone. She knew it was a useless hope, but she hoped nonetheless. Sure enough, when she finally looked, it was to find her persistent would-be lover standing over her, looking down at her wet, naked body with glittering carnality lighting his eyes. It stole her breath. Gone was the cool indifference, haughty indulgence, both replaced by a look of lust. Just pure lust. It made the rough valleys of his face appear even more masculine, more aggressive.

He sat down on the edge of the tub, his eyes sweeping hungrily over her. She was in so much more trouble than she thought. She realized in that moment that she was out of her depth. This wasn’t going to be a marriage of convenience, with a little boring sex on the side. He seemed out of control, sheer want overriding his cool façade. It scared her, this scared her.

“I want to get out,” she whispered, gripping the edges of the tub as if to stand.

“In a minute,” he countered, putting his hand over top of her wet one and holding her in place. “I like seeing you this way.”

She tried for flippant, though her heart was still pounding. “You like seeing a naked woman? Well that’s refreshingly unusual for your species.”

He tilted his head a little, studying her. “I like to see you vulnerable.” He paused, then added, “And naked. You are as perfect as I knew you’d be.”

“And you’re a fucking pervert,” she snapped, tugging at her hand. “Let me up.” She definitely needed to get herself dried off and into some clothes, maybe even those steel-heeled stilettos. She needed armour.

His gave her a flinty look and released her hand only to lean over and catch her chin in a harder grip. He stared down at her for several long seconds. Her heart beat fast and hard against her ribcage. She knew she was pushing him, the way she talked to him with a complete lack of respect. His gaze said everything she already knew. Any other man in his position would’ve taken her months ago, beaten and fucked her into submission. His patience wasn’t limitless and she was pushing her luck by skating so close to the edge. Sotza played with her, enjoyed the game, enjoyed her fight to a certain extent, but she wouldn’t be allowed to resist forever.

He gave her a quick, ruthless kiss. She didn’t have time to protest, to push him away. He was already pulling back when she brought her hands up to shove him. She pressed shaking fingers against her stinging lips and glared at him. She longed to blast him with every rancid thought running through her head, but he was right, naked and wet, sitting in a tub, she was vulnerable. What could she do if he decided to shove her under the water and hold her down until she’d learned her lesson?

Vee dropped her eyes to the bathwater and sat stiffly, waiting for him to make the next move. He’d won another round and he hadn’t even had to use force. No, The Butcher was showing her without words that she would belong to him, no matter what she said or did. Their violent courtship was his playground, and the bully owned every moment.

He stood and stepped away from the bathtub, his gaze lingering on her body. The bubbles were completely gone, she had nowhere to hide. “We’ll be dining with Garza this evening. Dress to kill, Vee,” he said, his voice flat, no indication of the small battle they’d just engaged in or the sexual tension igniting the air around them. “Wear the heels.”

19

Vee realized what Sotza meant by ‘dress to kill’ when he handed her a small revolver tucked neatly into a small leather holster. It took her a few seconds to realize the strap was clearly meant to fit around a thigh. Fancy. She wished she’d gotten one for herself ages ago. Weapons that were easily concealed in women’s outfits weren’t easy to come by.

She raised an eyebrow as she accepted the weapon, pulled it from the holster and checked the chamber. Fully loaded. What the fuck was he thinking? She could shoot him where he stood, casually leaning against the tall bedframe, watching her emotionlessly. “Giving me a gun is either brave or stupid.” She felt compelled to inform him. Then, as she tucked it back in its holster she said, “Actually, it’s just stupid. I’m a good shot and I will kill you the first opportunity I get where I can do the deed and safely disappear.”

The edge of his lip quirked and he nodded. “It’s your bloodthirsty attitude that makes me feel safe giving you this small gift.” He took the three steps separating them and caught her chin, tilting her head up. She had to look way up, even in heels, she was still half a foot shorter. “Of course, I’m still wary of you with a gun. I have a healthy respect for your abilities in the deadly arts. But Vee, you need to know I will never leave you unprotected. Even if it means arming you myself.”

The thought that he wanted to keep her safe was alluring. The knowledge that he trusted her to keep herself safe was intoxicating. And the entire mix of emotions was topped off with a healthy dose of confusion because she wanted to hate the man.

She nodded and stepped away, freeing her chin and stepping around him toward the end of the bed. Glancing over her shoulder, she confirmed that his eyes were all over her as she pulled up the tight knee-length skirt of her red dress, nearly to her panties. She lifted her left leg and placed it on the chest at the end of the bed, her metal heel striking the wood. It took a few moments of fussing with the holster strap to get it on just right. She needed it snug around the upper muscle of her thigh, but she also needed it to lay against her skin without puckering the dress. Her profile had to be completely smooth if anyone glanced down her body. She finished and straightened, tugging her skirt back down and smoothing her hands over her hips and thighs.

Turning to Sotza, she asked, “What do you think? Can you tell it’s there?”

His voice was a little rough when he replied, “You look stunning, Vee. Absolutely flawless.”

Her cheeks heated and she turned away so he wouldn’t see her reaction to his compliment. Vee suspected he didn’t often compliment people, but he’d been doing it plenty with her. She hated to admit it, but the difference in the way he treated her compared to how he treated other people warmed her heart a little. She’d feel a tiny bit bad when she finally got the chance to kill him. Miss all those pretty compliments.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she said grudgingly, looking him over with a critical eye and coming up with nothing to complain about. Sotza was everything she might look for in a man. He was tall and surprisingly strong with long, leanly corded muscles. Regally handsome with an edge of rugged. He knew how to showcase both elements of his character, wearing dark, impeccably tailored suits that contrasted with the brutal man so many unfortunate dead people encountered. It was enough to make even her heart stutter a little; both in trepidation and admiration.

She approached him, trying to match her confidence with his and reached for his tie, straightening it. Though she despised the man and his methods, she knew that they needed to project a united front to the Mexican cartel boss. Sotza watched her, his face void of expression as she smoothed her hand down the navy blue tie, flattening it against his chest, her nails briefly scraping the fabric of his shirt. She felt the rapid beat of his heart under her hand and had a small moment of wonder – he was good, keeping his face impassive while his body responded to her proximity.

They stood for a moment, looking at each other. If it had been a different time, a different place. If they had been two completely different people, Vee would have been head over heels for this man. She would have put every ounce of her feminine wiles to work to capture his attention.

She stepped back, bracing herself for the coming evening. Sotza’s eyes hardened and he became all business. It was time to go to work. She straightened her back and stared past him, awaiting his next move. He didn’t disappoint, turning at her side and taking her arm in a firm grip. “Let’s get this over with,” he said, leading her from the room.

Nico looked extremely handsome in his formal suit, cowboy boots with black hair slicked back. His jaw was freshly shaven and he smelled like Dior Homme cologne as he bent over Vee’s hand, kissing the skin lightly and then rising to press a quick kiss to her cheek. Vee felt Sotza’s tension as the Mexican boss handled her, but he didn’t make a move.

Nico turned and introduced his companion, a stunning Latina woman that took even Vee’s breath away. Though it was less her looks and more the intense concentration in her eyes that put Vee on edge. Desi was a little taller than Vee’s height in heels. She wore a black velvet gown that plunged deep down her chest, the two sides held together by strands of interlocking silver loops. Her long black hair flowed in a shiny fall down her back. Vee realized within seconds of meeting the other woman she was most likely Nico’s personal bodyguard, possibly even his second. Desi stood to his side and slightly in front, her hands loose and ready to go for a weapon. She didn’t look even remotely pleased or relaxed, as the date of a man like Nico might look.

Though the two were obviously fucking. A woman didn’t run her hand down another man’s arm with such familiarity unless she knew him intimately. That, coupled with the scathing look she shot Vee from behind Nico’s shoulder when he kissed Vee, made her positive Desi would kill if she felt either of her positions threatened. Vee simply raised an eyebrow and treated the other woman with cool indifference. The last thing she needed was the drama only a woman throwing a jealous fit could throw down.

“Please, let us be seated,” Nico said waving them into the formal dining room.

Vee looked around appreciatively, noting that Nico had incorporated modern accents to the traditional Mexican décor. The combination was stunning. She was a little surprised by his all-around good taste. She would’ve pegged the tough Mexican as the type of guy who would prefer to be buried deep in the jungle inside an impenetrable concrete fortress. And while she supposed his home was probably fortified to the max, Nico clearly enjoyed luxurious surroundings. It reminded Vee a little of her old life, with Tony.

She caught Nico’s eye and he grinned at her, nodding as he noted her appreciation of his home. “You like, Señora?”

She smiled back, her lips stretching tightly. Though she would play her part, she was wildly aware that this ‘pleasant’ evening was more than light socializing. A sizing up of all the players, figuring out where they fit and if they could ultimately do business in a trade known for its deadliness.

“You have a lovely home, Nico,” she assured him. “What I’ve seen so far is stunning.”

He accepted the compliment, taking her arm and guiding her around the table. As their host pulled a chair out for Vee, Sotza did the same for Desi, seating her across from their host before taking the chair opposite Vee’s. His dark eyes lingered on her face as Nico sat next to her.

She wondered what he was thinking. There was a snapping tension in the air around him that made Vee’s heart flutter, captured her attention and mesmerized her. She barely noticed Nico at her side, speaking on light topics as she stared back at Sotza. Was the tension a result of Nico being near her, acting his part as their gracious host, or was it something else? Something to do with the negotiations.

Though she gave the façade of basic politeness, Desi seemed to be in a mood. Her dark eyes followed everyone with malevolent suspicion and she barely spoke when someone spoke to her. Vee wished the other woman would stop glaring at her as though she wanted to cut Vee’s throat. She really needed to have a chat with the woman about having a sister’s back. After all, they were two deadly women, working in a man’s world.

Though Desi was magnificent, the epitome of Latina perfection, Vee didn’t envy her. She pitied the other woman. Living with a man, sleeping with him, and working for him. This is why Vee had a clear no fraternizing rule. It wasn’t professional and led to complications.

“What a lovely dress, Desi, is it Versace?” Vee asked, trying to draw the other woman into conversation. Perhaps if she attempted to befriend the hostile woman, she could ferret out more about Desi’s and Nico’s relationship status. It could come in useful.

Desi shot Vee a borderline scathing look and answered, her tone carefully bored, “No te entiendo.”

Vee doubted very much that Desi didn’t understand. If Desi was Nico’s second-in-command then she would definitely know how to speak the language of a major trade partner. But Vee switched easily to Spanish and asked the question again. If anything, Desi’s countenance grew colder, angrier as she snapped that, yes, her dress was Versace.

Vee couldn’t help herself. She probably should, but the old Vee, the one who dined regularly with high society mavens, simply couldn’t resist needling the unpleasant woman when it became clear that Desi wasn’t going to accept her attempt at friendliness. She continued in flawless Spanish, “And your shoes? Simply marvelous. Where did you get them? What brand are they?”

“Manolo,” Desi snarled, barely concealing her annoyance. She snatched up her wine glass a mere second after the servant poured. “My bracelet is Cartier and my make-up is mostly Armani. That about sums up my wardrobe unless you want to talk about my underwear.”

Vee nearly laughed out loud. Wow, it was easy to get under Desi’s skin. She really wished the other woman weren’t so hostile. She suspected they actually had quite a lot in common, even the quick temper. It would be fun to chat her up, see what it was like inside a Mexican cartel from the viewpoint of a powerful woman.

Nico interrupted their fun though by growling across the table at Desi, telling her to shut her mouth if she couldn’t be polite to his guests. Vee was surprised when, instead of looking contrite, Desi turned her furious gaze toward her lover. She didn’t speak, and Vee understood. Desi would push Nico too far if she disrespected him directly. Appearance was everything to a cartel man.

After that, Vee got bored. Desi behaved herself, even when Vee tried to bait her into a response. Nico continued acting the perfect host, politely inquiring about their wedding plans. Sotza played ball but gave non-committal responses. Nico didn’t try to flirt with her as he’d done on the airstrip. She wondered why. He’d obviously been playing with them earlier, but was his lack of overt attention to Vee a sign of respect toward Desi? That would imply their relationship was deeper than it appeared on the surface.

Vee was curious about their weird little dinner party. It was steeped in hostility and tension, yet nothing spilled into the polite flow of conversation. What was the point? Was Nico simply being polite, inviting his guests to an evening meal while they stayed with him? Or did this meal have a more sinister undertone? Was their host trying to assess them, assess Sotza’s strengths, perhaps even his feelings toward Vee? And for what reason? Would be dare to strike out at them while they were vulnerable on his property? It would be a stupid decision. He must know the strength of the Venezuelan cartel. Retaliation would be swift and predictably brutal.

A quick glance toward Sotza confirmed that he was watching, his eyes never leaving Nico. His gaze was neutral, completely blank. Vee shivered as something stirred in those black depths every time Nico spoke or directed a comment to either one of them. She wondered what stopped Sotza’s hand. She knew, if The Butcher chose to make a move, to slaughter everyone in the room, they would all be dead before their soup spoons fell. Vee didn’t know if it was their need of a Mexican partner that stalled his hand, or if he was playing another game. Somehow, she didn’t think it was the negotiations. He’d cut off Domingo’s head with nary a thought to the ripple effects of his loss throughout Mexico. He’d simply done as he wanted and moved forward.

When the meal ended, Nico escorted Vee and Sotza to their room. After assuring him they would join him for breakfast he left. Sotza saw Vee into the room and then stepped out for a few minutes to talk to their security. Vee paced across the lush carpet, then pulled her shoes off and tossed them toward the end of the bed. When Sotza entered the room, Vee turned to him and stopped moving. She waited for him to speak first.

He locked the door and glanced over at Vee. He didn’t disappoint her expectations. “You were a beautiful sight tonight, Vee. You worked that room like a pro.”

Vee was elated and grinned broadly at the compliment. Maybe she should have brushed it off, but right now she felt awesome stepping back into her old role, one where she ruled a room with ease, but this time it wasn’t behind a desk or in a warehouse. “Tell me you saw what I saw?” she demanded.

He nodded seriously and strode toward the bed, sitting on the bench to pull his own shoes off. Vee tried to shrug away her sudden discomfort in the intimacy of a man taking his shoes off in a bedroom they would both sleep in. He’d seen her fully naked, the sound of his shoes hitting the floor shouldn’t be causing such a flutter in her stomach. “Desiree is clearly his second-in-command. She’s a terrible actress. I would lay money that he told her to act stupid, vapid. Just a beautiful bimbo companion to a rich man.”

“Exactly!” Vee said excitedly. “She rose to my bait so easily. Even when she finally locked down her emotions, I could still feel her anger and resentment. If her job was to gather intel, she seriously fucked that up. Which is why you don’t fuck around with the boss, messes with priorities.”

“Agreed, they shouldn’t be mixing business and pleasure. Tell me, Vee, did you learn this lesson from personal experience? From Danny Russo?” When he said the words, he stared at her. His mask dropped for a second and she saw The Butcher. He was demanding to know if she’s fucked Danny. Probably assumed she had.

Vee crossed her arms and gripped her biceps. She glared at him. “If you’re asking if I fucked Danny, than the answer is it’s none of your fucking business.”

“Even if it meant his life?”

She let out an annoyed huff and gave him the answer he wanted. “I know better than to fuck the staff.”

“Who would you fuck, Vee?” he persisted.

She lifted her chin and snapped, “I think you mean, who did I fuck? Do you want a list, Sotza, because it’s a long one? Isn’t that what you’re really after?”

“Careful,” he warned her.

“Or what?” she snapped throwing caution out the window.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, the first visible sign he’d given that he might be tired or affected by her constant resistance. The moment passed quickly and he straightened, giving her a glacial look. “You may have noticed that I’m fairly subtle most of the time.”

She frowned. That was true, he wasn’t particularly heavy-handed, yet he always seemed to get his way. “Yes?”

“Silent contemplation is how I survive in this business. I observe the people around me, find their weaknesses, and come up with creative punishments.”

She shivered. She’d heard of his ‘creative punishments,’ his meticulous brutality. “You would punish me?” she asked, her voice wavering a little.

He nodded. “If it became necessary. I never say anything I don’t mean to follow through on.”

They stared at each other, a battle of wills. Vee believed him. He always did what he said he was going to do. He’d told her from the beginning that he was taking Miami, that he was taking her, that he would marry her. Vee was starting to believe it. Believe that she couldn’t stop him.

“I would punish you back,” she said, unable to allow him the final word.

“I believe you’ll try,” he agreed. And once more she caught a flash of exhaustion etched into the grooves of his face. He spent months chasing after her, taking Miami from her and setting up his own command. All this while he still had his own cartel back in Venezuela, making sure it ran smooth without his presence. And now this negotiation with the Mexican cartel. He would have to be ten steps ahead of Garza at all times. She decided to back off… for now. She didn’t want to find the limit of his patience now. Not here in this dangerous place.

“I’m tired,” Vee said, opening the suitcase and digging around until she came up with white silk pyjamas, something she would definitely have bought for herself. She looked pointedly at the bed. “Where are you sleeping?”

He grinned suddenly, a wolfish smile that made her heart stutter. She was becoming accustomed to his gentlemanly demeanor, the cool way he carried himself. The sudden heat in his expression took her breath away. He didn’t answer the question she posed, instead he said, “Vee, when I’m ready to share a bed with you, you’ll know.” Then he turned and left the bedroom, the audible click of the lock a stark reminder of her situation.

She shouldn’t be sparring with The Butcher, she should be trying to find a way out of the cage he was building around her.

20

The flight from Mexico to Venezuela took about five hours. Sotza was happy to be back. Watching Vee’s face as they descended over the mountainous jungle region of his home made this landing special. Her professional mask slipped away as she clutched the window frame and leaned in her seat to better see the breathtaking beauty of Venezuela. He could see a combination of excitement, exhilaration and trepidation in her lovely features. He suspected she’d never travelled this far.

Though Sotza didn’t know all the details, he did know that Vee had an isolated childhood. She was born and raised in Miami and rarely strayed beyond the Florida borders. Her mother had been a high-class prostitute that became pregnant by a mobster. The man was already married but agreed to set his mistress and the child up in an apartment. Vee met her father a handful of times over the years before her parents split for good. The mother died of a speedball overdose when Vee was sixteen.

Following in her mother’s footsteps Vee’d seduced men in high positions within the underworld, keeping herself in the only lifestyle she knew. A lifestyle that probably made her miserable. Perhaps that was part of the reason she turned to cocaine. She used it, liked it and then couldn’t get off it because her life was so awful she had no will to try. After several years warming the bed of Frank Lopez, a close friend of Vee’s father, she met her future husband Tony.

Rumour had it that Vee wasn’t too impressed with the pushy Cuban when he first approached her. But eventually his persistence won out and she agreed to marry him. Sotza had no idea when the marriage turned sour, but he suspected she had never loved her husband. She had simply been swept up in the turning tide of Miami’s underworld when Tony took over Frank’s operation. Of course, Vee had taken Tony out, ending their turbulent marriage. The death causing ripples through underworld circles. Reyes had taken her under his wing after Montana’s death and guided her. A smart choice, Sotza admitted. Who knew the scene and all the players better than Elvira Montana?

This was the extent of Sotza’s knowledge of Vee before he’d landed in Miami. Before he set eyes on her. If this had been everything that made Vee, he wouldn’t have hesitated in pulling the trigger, ending her tenacious grip on one of the most lucrative markets. Instead she had shown him that she was so much more than an escort turned gold-digger. That she could hold her own in shark infested waters. And she did it with such grace… mesmerizing him. If he wasn’t so infatuated by her he would’ve talked Reyes into allowing her to keep her position with Sotza at her disposal to help her with the Mexico situation.

But Sotza wanted to keep all that icy fire to himself. Apply it to his own organization. Bring it to his bed and wear it on his arm. Vee was the woman he’d been waiting his whole life for. Now that he had her under his command he was determined to spend a lifetime getting to know her, holding her, grooming her and then setting her free to stand at his side. He would open the cage doors when she was ready to accept his rule.

She turned to him, blue eyes sparkling, lips stretched in a carefree grin. “Is this where you live, your home?” she asked, awe in her voice.

“One of them,” he replied, feeling pleasure in being with her, having her home with him. He leaned in and glanced past her shoulder. “The main base of my operations.”

“I see,” she said, studying the land carefully as the airplane headed toward a private runway a few kilometres from the main house. “It looks fairly isolated up here in the mountains. The dense foresting would help keep you hidden, make it hard for any kind of authority to get in.”

Sotza appreciated her critical eye. Despite her lack of travel she still managed to educate herself. “Indeed,” he agreed with her assessment. “Extremely difficult. Which is why I picked this location. We’re unlikely to be disturbed.”

“And are you bordering Columbia or Brazil?” she asked curiously.

“We are closer to the Columbian border, although not close enough to either country to make a significant difference. Which is good since there are so many people leaving the country right now. We’re high up and isolated enough that there are no refugee paths anywhere near my land.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “They’re starving.”

“That’s one of the reasons,” he said easily. “Though it isn’t lack of food so much as the exorbitant price of the food, lack of proper governance. I work with several of the local organizations to bring aid to some of the major centers, Caracas and surrounding area.”

“How very Robin Hood of you,” she said, though there was no bite to her words.

“These are my people, Vee. I was born here, grew up among the locals. And though my mother was English and I was educated in England, my heart has always remained in this country.”

“These poor people,” she murmured her eyes clouding a little. “I can’t imagine what real hunger must feel like.”

“And you never will,” his voice hardened. “I take care of the things that belong to me.”

“So you’ve said,” she snapped, and he almost regretted reminding Vee of her captivity. But he couldn’t regret acquiring her, bringing her to Venezuela. “What if I decide to go on hunger strike?”

“I would have you force fed. Not a pretty prospect,” he replied. “But you’re too intelligent to go on hunger strike. It would weaken you too much to fight back. You tend to think in the long term, attempting to stay two steps ahead of everyone else.”

She laughed, the sound brittle. “That kind of thinking doesn’t work when I’m being pursued by a man that thinks ten steps ahead.”

“You have it wrong, Vee. We think very much alike. The biggest difference between us is you have heart.”

“And you don’t?” she asked.

“I have what it takes to do what’s necessary,” he assured her. “I will always take that extra step to ensure success.”

“It doesn’t bode well for the future of our so-called marriage if you don’t have a heart,” she said, an edge to her voice. As though she cared about his words and was annoyed that she cared. It pleased him that she wanted to know these things, was willing to enter the conversation.

“I have a heart, Vee,” he assured her quietly. “It just hasn’t been touched in many years.”

“And you think I can touch that block of stone?” she asked incredulously.

He chuckled, unable to resist. She pulled so many emotions from him. While somewhat disturbing, he’d had a few months now to grow used to the feeling, to embrace it. “Imagine what kind of a position you’ll be in if my heart beat only for you. One day, when we’ve reached that point in our relationship, ask me for the world. See what happens.”

She stared at him, lost for words. The plane hit the runway, bouncing a little. Vee had been so involved in their conversation that she hadn’t noticed the landing. She jumped in her seat, twisting around to stare back out the window. He leaned toward her once more, curving his hand possessively over her shoulder, unable to resist that small touch as he watched the rainforest fly by.

Sotza was home once more, and he brought a queen who, once tamed, would share his throne.

21

Sotza’s words echoed through her brain in a constant loop. Ask me for the world. What if she did? Then what. Would he give it to her? Was he implying that if he fell in love with her that he would give her anything she wanted? Would he grant her freedom if that’s what she asked for? Vee’s head spun with the possibilities. She never once thought to cultivate his attentions.

When Vee was younger, in her late teens and early twenties, she’d been forced to do things she wasn’t proud of. She had no skills, no education. The only thing she had was beauty, a sharp mind and extensive knowledge of the Miami criminal world. She’d done what she could to exploit that world, but it had slowly chipped away at the good things inside her until she was certain they no longer existed. Sotza said she had heart, but he was wrong. While his might be a block of frigid ice, her chest cavity was empty, a gaping hole. Nothing beat within. Her heart had died decades ago when she lost her mother, the broken, sad woman who had been Vee’s whole world.

But something in what Sotza said… and the way he looked at her, made her non-existent heart beat a little faster. As though it was interested. As though, maybe, possibly he could revive it. It was an exhilarating and terrifying thought.

They got in a waiting all-terrain vehicle, driven, presumably, by one of Sotza’s men. She had noticed they all wore a uniform of black fatigue pants and green shirts. Another sign of his need for order and control. They drove a paved road, through a dense forest for about ten minutes then the car pulled into a massive garage. Sotza helped her from the vehicle.

As they left the garage and followed a neat stone path, Sotza took her elbow, leaned down and said, “I have acquired your daughter, Vee. I need your compliance in some important matters we’ll be discussing over the next few weeks and I believe her presence will help sway you to my way of thinking.”

Vee stopped walking, stumbling on her high heels when Sotza took another step, accidentally dragging her with him. She jerked her arm away and stared at him in horror. She could feel the blood draining from her face. She felt faint, should probably have allowed him to keep his hold on her arm. But in that moment she didn’t want the evil bastard’s touch anywhere near her. “You have Raina?” she asked, making sure she’d heard him right.

“Correct. My second-in-command collected her from her University campus almost two weeks ago. It’s my understanding that she’s settling in nicely, though she does take after you. She also toyed with the idea of a food strike.”

It took Vee so long to process his words, to understand what he was saying that it took her a full minute to launch her attack. She threw her fist at his face, uncaring if she broke her fingers. She didn’t care about anything except destroying the man who allowed his people to lay hands on her daughter. It felt like her heart was breaking, though she didn’t know how that was possible, since she didn’t care about him.

Sotza moved swiftly to the side, grabbing her fist and swinging her around so her back was against his chest. She wasn’t done trying to kill him. Or scream for all the world to hear. “You motherfucking son-of-a-bitch!” she screeched. “You fucking dared to touch my child? MY CHILD!? I will fucking kill you for this, Sotza, I really will!”

She threw an elbow into his side, enjoying his grunt at the impact. When the arm he had around her waist loosened a little she reached between her thighs, tugging her skirt up, going for her gun. He slid a hand over her hip and grabbed her wrist tightly, yanking it up to her waist. “Calm down, Vee.”

“Fuck you!” she yelled. “I won’t calm the fuck down, you unbelievable asshole. You, you, evil Butcher.”

“If you don’t calm down right now I’ll be forced to haul you into the house, past all my staff and lock you in the bedroom until you stop screaming.”

“I will fucking calm down after I’ve done cartwheels on your grave, you sick child kidnapping monster!”

“Right,” he said grimly, his mouth against the side of her head so she couldn’t head butt him. “You are clearly not in the mood for rational thinking.”

He swung her around so fast her vision spun and she had no idea what was going on until he picked her up off the ground and tossed her over his shoulder, an arm wrapped firmly around her thighs. She gripped handfuls of his suit jacket and pushed herself up, trying to see as he strode toward what appeared from her limited vantage point to be a mansion.

“You kidnapped my daughter, you motherfucking bastard, of course I’m not in the mood,” she yelped.

“I had hoped that you would greet my staff, your daughter and my second with the respect your new position should command. Instead they’ll all get a surprising view of your ass as you enter your new home.”

“I’m going to stab you the first chance I get,” she replied.

“I believe you’ll try,” he agreed, striding up the stone staircase to a set of open double doors.

Vee saw a flash of people as he walked past all of them, ignoring hastily spoken greetings in both Spanish and English. She tried shoving her hair back with one hand and bracing herself against his back with the other. It didn’t work. As soon as he started ascending a set of interior stairs she was jostled and forced to lay flat against his back, bunches of his coat balled in her fists.

“Is that my mother?” a curious voice reached through the pandemonium following their arrival.

“Raina?” Vee yelled.

She wasn’t given a chance to confirm that it was indeed her daughter who spoke because Sotza didn’t slow. If anything he sped up when they reached the landing above the main floor, his long legs quickly taking them away from the people below.

“Put me down!” she yelled, now panicked that she wouldn’t get to see the daughter she hadn’t set eyes on since she was a baby. “Please, Sotza!” The last part came out in a sob.

He ignored her pleas, throwing a door open, going through and kicking it shut behind him. The carpet was a beautiful blur as he walked. Then she was flung through the air, shrieking until her breath was slammed from her lungs as her back met the mattress of a bed. She started to scramble back off the bed, but he dropped on top of her, pinning her down with his body.

She froze as she saw his face. He was furious, completely unhinged. Except for his eyes, those held the lust that he could never quite conceal when he looked at her. And though she felt the rapid beat of his heart against her breasts, his breathing was even though he’d just walked a long way with her over his shoulder. The man wasn’t human.

“Welcome home, Vee,” he said grimly.

“Fuck you.”

She threw her fist into his face, connecting with his chin. It hurt like a motherfucker even though he was so close to her she didn’t have a lot of leverage. Still, as his head swung to the side, she decided he got the point.

22

Vee watched her daughter from the window of the bedroom Sotza locked her in. Two days had passed since she’d entered his home over his shoulder, screaming obscenities. Since she’d punched him in the face. Her rage was so great that during those first hours of isolation she would have happily burned the estate to the ground if it had been within her abilities. Since that exchange, her anger had dimmed to seething hatred.

Whenever Sotza came to check on her she simply stood silently staring out the window at the grounds below, always searching for a glimpse of her girl. He would talk to her, in his quiet voice. He didn’t say anything particularly important, spoke about his home, what life was like there, spoke a little about Miami. He didn’t say a word about Raina. He knew she was starving for information on her daughter. Vee thought maybe he knew that and refused to give up the goods until she started speaking to him again.

Now that they were in his home country he tended to speak Spanish. She had to admit he was smooth. His delivery of both languages flawless. Better than hers. She’d started learning Spanish from some of the men who visited her mother when Vee was a child. Later, she’d finished her education in the language formally, through online classes. Despite her fluent knowledge of Spanish, she still spoke in stilted sentences, never quite comfortable with her second language.

No one entered the bedroom except Sotza, and he only came in during meal times. They spent time together in mostly silence because Vee refused to speak and Sotza wasn’t a man to fill silence needlessly. He would sit quietly while she ate, watching her, his face blank, and then taking her tray when she finished. Though she stayed silent throughout these exchanges she longed to scream at him, hurl insults, hit him. The rational part of her brain told her none of these tactics would work. Sotza had proven himself both patient and intelligent. If she wanted to outsmart him then she needed to hold in the tantrum that threatened to erupt whenever she looked at him.

Sotza changed the game when he brought Raina here. Before, maybe she could have accepted her fate, but now, there was more at stake than her life. Not only did she need to escape, she had to take her daughter with her. Raina didn’t belong here. Didn’t belong anywhere near cartel. She’d been raised by a nice, loving family on an isolated farm. Vee’d made sure of it. It pierced her soul that despite everything she did to hide Raina from the world, the sacrifice she made to ensure the child’s safety, the girl had been dragged into Vee’s mafia world anyway.

Vee mostly blamed herself, not Sotza. The man was born and raised cartel. He was a ruthless weapon. It was in his DNA to find and exploit any and every weakness when he was hunting. And she’d given him the ultimate weapon to use against her, a child. No, she laid most of the blame at her own feet. She should’ve done a better job of hiding the girl. She shouldn’t have checked up on her so often throughout the years. Maybe she should’ve sent Raina farther, even overseas, where she might have been out of reach.

No matter what Vee thought, she knew that Sotza would’ve ferreted out her daughter no matter what Vee did, no matter how hard she tried to bury the secret. It was her own fault for bringing the child into a world where Vee’s mobbed up life might one day touch Raina. But when she’d found out she was pregnant at eighteen, the father one of a string of ruthless mobsters, she hadn’t been as horrified or upset as she thought she would be if she was ever faced with that situation. She hadn’t been happy either. Of course not. At the time, she’d been living in a beautiful rental condo, the prize of her latest mafia conquest. She’d been his petted princess, given jewels, clothes, anything her heart desired.

Vee couldn’t quite explain how she felt when she found out she was pregnant but terminating the fetus hadn’t been an option for her. She’d thought long and hard about it, had even gone to a clinic to gather information. But in the end, as her baby grew, she knew she wanted to set eyes on it. Just once. Then she’d send it off to a better life.

Her pregnancy had been one of the best and loneliest times of her life. The father abandoned her almost as soon as he found out. Vee anticipated his reaction. She sold a bunch of her jewelry and moved into a smaller, cheaper place. She spent the next several months getting to know her child. Talking to it, reassuring it, singing and reading to it. She almost never went out, ordering her groceries from a supermarket that delivered. The last thing she needed was for the Miami mafia scene to catch wind of her pregnancy, to know about the child she produced. So she went through the entire thing alone, no friends, no family, no boyfriends.

And now, in Sotza’s home, she discovered that all that sacrifice was for nothing. Her child had never really been safe. If it wasn’t this, it would have been something else. The child was a pawn, something to exploit. The ultimate bargaining chip against a heartless woman who would sacrifice her own life in a deadly mafia war. But she would never sacrifice Raina.

Vee touched her fingertips against the window, watching as Raina sat slumped on a bench in Sotza’s beautiful garden. From her view it looked like a hedge maze. Raina had obviously figured it out and went into it almost daily, spending time among the flowers and shrubbery. Vee watched from above, a relentless sentinel who could do nothing if something should happen to the girl.

She wondered what Raina thought. Was she cognizant of the danger she was in just by existing? Had anyone told her who her mother is? Was she terrified for her life? Was she angry, like Vee? All these thoughts pounded relentlessly through Vee’s brain. And though she was terrified for her daughter, she still craved a glimpse. She wanted to see the woman she had given birth to, this person who looked so much like her it was uncanny.

Vee’s throat and chest ached with tears at the way Raina hunched her posture, wrapping her arms around her sleight body and rocking gently on the stone bench, her long, wavy blond hair flowing over one shoulder, glasses sliding down her nose, her gaze fixed on the stone path in front of her. Vee tensed when she saw someone approach the girl. It was a man, younger than Sotza, probably a bit younger than Vee. But even from her vantage point she could tell that he was as tough as they came. He spoke to Raina and her head tipped up sharply, her posture going from sad to angry in a matter of seconds. Like she knew him and didn’t like him. Was this the man who’d done Sotza’s dirty work, kidnapped Vee’s daughter while Sotza was busy going after Vee?

Raina stood and poked her finger in the guy’s face, snapping something at him before whirling away. He grabbed her before she could stomp away up the path and back to the house. Vee growled, wanting to storm down there, tear them apart and then tear whoever the man was to little pieces. Then she would go and rip Sotza to shreds for bringing her daughter here, for introducing her to the mafia world and putting her in danger.

“She’s beautiful,” Sotza’s quiet voice came from behind her, startling Vee. She didn’t turn around or acknowledge his presence as she continued to watch the scene unfolding below her. She was proud to see her daughter holding her own with the tough guy. “Just like you.”

Vee bit her lip, holding back the insults and accusations she so badly wanted to hurl at her tormentor. By bringing Raina to Venezuela he’d ruined everything she ever sacrificed to give the girl a good life. And he ruined any feelings Vee might have been developing for him. Her lips curled a little as she got a clear view of Raina’s face when she managed to wrench her arm out of the man’s grasp, give him the finger and stomp toward the house. She was definitely her mother’s daughter.

She felt rather than heard Sotza step closer behind her. He leaned over her shoulder looking out the window at the scene below. She felt her hair stir as his chin brushed against her, raising goosebumps along Vee’s arm. She tried to subtlety shift away but he leaned with her.

His mouth was against her ear when he spoke. “We need to talk, Vee.” When she refused to say anything, refused to turn around, he curved long fingers over her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Both of us this time. This won’t be a one-sided conversation.” His voice was low and quiet. Up close he was so much taller, and without her heels, her eyes landed on the middle of his chest. He was wearing a vest over his buttoned-up shirt, but he’d abandoned his tie and suit jacket taking on a more casual appearance.

Vee couldn’t help the shiver that went through her at his touch. She hated that her body was so aware of his, so at war with her own mind. She pushed past him, not wanting him to see his effect on her. She was wearing a short-sleeved silk shirt and a knee length skirt with slits up both sides. Both items were blue, the shirt a softer shade than the skirt. She wore a large ornamental belt at her waist. She had to hand it to Sotza, either he or one of his people had impeccable taste.

“Then talk,” she said coolly, speaking for the first time in two days. Perhaps it was time to negotiate with the crime lord. Speak to him on a reasonable level and see if she could get herself out of the bedroom and planning an escape.

His amused gaze followed her as she paced to the bed and sat on the edge. She realized when he followed her that she’d made a mistake. She should have sat in the chair near the armoire. Sotza didn’t sit though, he stood over her, watching her, using his physical presence to intimidate. She’d seen the tactic many times before. Probably would have done it herself if she wasn’t closer to five feet than six.

“It’s time to set a wedding date,” he said. “Next week, I think.”

Vee nearly swallowed her tongue. Of course, she knew why she was there. He’d told her many times of his desire to marry her. But she couldn’t bring herself to think of it as more than a sick joke. People didn’t force other people into marriage. Not in this day and age. Yet, she shouldn’t be so surprised. The mafia made their own rules, and often followed a code of conduct that could be called old-fashioned. It was part of the reason she’d sent Raina away as a baby. She hadn’t wanted the girl raised in such a world, where she might one day become fodder in the war of men.

“I don’t think so,” Vee replied.

He bobbed his head a little, as though expecting her answer. “Regardless, you will prepare for a wedding.”

Vee had absolutely no doubt Sotza would find a way to make the marriage happen. She’d had two days to decide how she would play this moment. Knowing it was coming. She gripped the edge of the bed and said, “It’ll go easier with my consent.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t look otherwise shocked by her comment. Either he had an incredible poker face or he knew what was coming.

“Send Raina back home and I’ll marry you,” she said, toughening her tone as she would for any other negotiation.

“No.” His answer was instant, the hard edge of his voice telling her he wouldn’t negotiate for her daughter.

Still, she had to keep trying. “You don’t need her once you have me.”

“I already have you. That won’t change.”

“You don’t have my cooperation,” she bit out. He didn’t say anything so she continued, an edge of desperation entering her voice, though she wished she could remain cool. If she had to beg, for Raina’s sake, then she would. “If you keep my daughter out of this I’ll do what you want. I’ll marry you, fuck you, become the ideal wife, whatever you want.” A crease showed between his brows. A sign that he was considering her words? She pushed on. “Having her here is going to be a problem, Sotza. If she’s anything like me she’ll cause trouble. She won’t settle into this life. Please, just send her away. I’ll give you anything you ask for.”

“No,” he said, and before she could argue, he continued, “she’s vulnerable, Vee. I proved that she can be tracked, picked up. It’s good luck that this didn’t happen a year ago when you started flexing muscle in Miami. She could have been grabbed by the Mexican cartel if they’d thought to dig into your past.”

He had a point. The mere idea of the cartel getting their hands on her daughter made Vee feel sick. She stood and stepped toward Sotza, imploring. “Then send her somewhere else, send her overseas, somewhere she’ll be safe. Just not here. You can help me hide her.”

He looked down at her, a fire leaping into his eyes at her proximity. He didn’t touch her though. “She won’t be safe anywhere. Only here, only under my protection.”

Vee slapped him. She couldn’t help it. All the rage she’d been bottling up spilled out, exploding. He didn’t move when her hand cracked across his cheek. A muscle jumped in his jaw, the only sign that he was affected by her hit. She lifted a finger and shoved it into his face.

“You are the reason she’s in danger!” Vee vibrated with anger. “You are the son-of-a-bitch who destroyed my daughter’s life. The life that I sacrificed everything for. I will never forgive you and I will never settle into any kind of marriage with you.”

He waited until she said her piece, until she’d spewed her rage at him. Then he grabbed her, moving before she had time to fling herself away. He gripped her upper arms tightly, lifting her onto her toes and bending until his face was inches from hers. Her heart pounded painfully against her chest. It finally sunk in that she’d struck this unforgiving man twice within a few days. She’d struck the man who held her and Raina’s lives in his care. She was an idiot to challenge him.

He didn’t address the slap though. He just held her like that, staring down at her, his eyes bottomless, dark pits. She felt the tension in his body. She wanted to recall her words, the slap, everything, just so long as he released her. His touch made her feel again, fear, arousal, confusion.

She was seconds away from breaking down completely and begging him to drop her when he said, “You will be my wife, it’s as good as done.”

He threw her backwards so hard her feet flew out from underneath her. Vee squeaked in fear, as her legs hit the bed and she collapsed backwards, bouncing on the mattress. By the time she surfaced, eyes wide and mouth open in shock he was striding toward the door. He stopped and turned as he twisted the knob. “I’ll send your daughter up when she’s ready. I tried to get her to come see you yesterday, but she refused.”

His words stabbed her in the heart. His assertion that Raina didn’t want to see her was nothing less than she expected, but it still hurt nonetheless. She nodded and remained silent. She was surprised by his kindness in allowing the two women to visit, though somewhat confused. Why did he care?

He watched her face as she felt herself crumble, gave her a moment to absorb them and then said, “If you ever strike me again, I will strike you back.”

Vee nodded. She’d used up her free passes. If she pissed him off again, The Butcher would come out to play.

23

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

Raina’s head snapped up as Mateo’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts. She’d been thinking about her parents, knowing that they would be frantic with worry over her disappearance. She shook off her melancholy and straightened her spine, treating him to the glare she’d perfected just for him. The guy was too fucking hot for his own good. He’d been dressing a little nicer since his boss got back. Today he was wearing a pair of black dress pants with a leather belt, a green collared shirt and boots. He’d left his jacket off, leaving his holster and gun visible. Raina wasn’t used to seeing weapons displayed so casually. He wore it like it was part of him. She dropped her eyes from the gun.

“What could possibly happen to me out here?” she asked moodily. “Do you think I might get kidnapped or something? Oh yeah, that already happened. I think I’ll take the risk, thank you.”

His jaw knotted at her tone of voice. She didn’t care. What was he going to do? He was back under Sotza’s jurisdiction. And though Mateo wasn’t exactly subservient to anyone, his boss included, he still seemed to respect Sotza’s rule of law. Raina felt fairly certain that Mateo wasn’t allowed to touch her without permission. Though, from their frequent meetings, she definitely got the impression he wanted to touch and maybe do more to her. She just wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill her or fuck her. She sort of wished she had a little more life experience so she could figure it out.

“Your bratty mouth isn’t going to get you far around here,” he grunted.

“And for some reason you think I care?”

He stepped closer to where she was sitting, towering over her, his shadow blocking out the sun. Her heart beat fast and hard and her palms grew damp where she gripped the edge of her seat. Why was she baiting him? It was stupid and she knew it, yet she couldn’t seem to stop.

“You should care, Raina,” he said softly. She was beginning to recognize that tone. She’d heard Sotza use it, and other men around the property. Usually when they were discussing something less than savory.

“You need to fuck off, okay?” she snapped. “You did your job, you brought me here. I shouldn’t have to put up with you any more. Doesn’t Sotza have something else to keep you busy? I don’t need you following me around, acting like some kind of creepy babysitter. I’m done with you.”

His lips flattened and his nostrils flared. “I’m not done with you, Raina. And I’m keeping track of your disrespect. One day you’ll pay up.”

She jumped to her feet and waved a finger in his face. “You can’t touch me!”

“You think not?” He seemed almost amused, despite his anger.

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Your boss won’t let you.”

Now he did laugh, a short bark, a chilling sound. “No one leashes me, chica. Definitely not the Señor. I am his second because I earned it, because I’m the best at my job. I am loyal, but I am not some employee. If I asked for your life, he wouldn’t hesitate to give it to me. And one day soon, I will be asking.”

Raina shivered at the viciousness of his words. He was supremely confident in everything he was saying. And she had no come back. Just a desperate wish to disappear before he decided to make good on his words. She spun away from him and stomped toward the house throwing him the bird over her shoulder. She was grateful when he didn’t follow her in.

She sighed heavily as she walked into the dark, sinister interior of Sotza’s home. She’d been there for 14 days now. She hated everything about the place. From the overbearing furniture with its English influence, to the bedroom that she spent so much time in alone, to Sotza himself. The past few days he’d insisted that Raina join him for their evening meal. She had been unable to bring herself to refuse. She didn’t dare treat him the way she was treating Mateo. There was something about Sotza that was terrifying and completely unapproachable. She’d heard whispers among the staff about his nickname, the Gentleman Butcher. Raina didn’t need further explanation to understand that he was a man better left alone.

Though she tried to be respectful with the man who’d had her kidnapped, she’d nearly crossed the line the evening before when they sat down to eat together. He’d explained to Raina that he would be wedding her mother the following week and that Raina would be attending the church ceremony. She’d understood that there could be no argument.

Raina had been spending plenty of time trying to come to terms with her feelings regarding her birth mother. She knew she would have to meet her. And though she’d spent years searching for the woman, Raina didn’t feel ready for a face-to-face, thus she’d refused Sotza when he asked if she wanted a visit. No matter how she tried to look at things, she couldn’t stop the deep sense of abandonment every time she thought about Elvira Montana. There was always a streak of resentment when she thought of her mother, though she was mature enough to understand that the woman probably had her reasons. And those reasons were gradually coming to light the more time she spent in Venezuela. If Vee’s life in the US had been anything like this, then Raina was starting to understand why Vee had given her up.

She was beginning to suspect that these dinners in Sotza’s presence were his way of dealing with Raina’s resentment toward her mother. He spoke in his quiet voice about Vee and Miami. Just light stuff, throwing out comments about Vee’s interests and how much she enjoyed walking on the beach. He would also ask Raina polite questions about her family and life in Pennsylvania. Though the conversations should have been awkward, they never were. The dinners were not something Raina looked forward to. Sotza spoke with such authority that Raina often felt like a child in his presence. She had no choice but to sit and listen, and then respond if he asked her a question.

Until last evening when Raina finally pushed back. Asked some of the burning questions that she desperately wanted answers to.

“How long are you going to keep me here?” she asked during a lull in the conversation.

He lifted his gaze from the table to study her. When he placed his fork gently on his plate and lifted his napkin to his lips, Raina realized she’d asked a more complicated question than she thought. It made her heart ache. Because if there wasn’t a simple answer to when she could go home then that meant she probably wouldn’t get the answer she wanted.

“Your presence here is permanent,” he said, his dark, cold gaze on her face.

Raina’s jaw dropped. It took her a moment to find her voice. He waited patiently until she could speak. “Permanent… as in…”

He didn’t speak though. She noticed that about Sotza. Once he said his piece, he didn’t repeat himself or clarify unless he felt it was necessary. Still, as clear as he’d been, she just couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that she would stay there forever.

“But why?” An edge of panic sharpened her voice. “You have my mother, you said you’ll marry her. You said yourself she’ll cooperate. Once the wedding is over you don’t need me for leverage. My parents will be looking for me, they’re probably completely freaking out, wondering if I’m dead or something. You can just let me go back home. I promise I won’t say anything about you.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” he said smoothly.

“But I’m nothing to you. You needed me to lure her out of hiding, right? Now you have her, what’s the point in keeping me?”

He studied her carefully, his features completely blank. “You are misinformed, child. You were never brought here to be used as leverage against your mother.”

Her jaw dropped again. She wasn’t? It had been her assumption from the beginning, as soon as she found out her kidnapping had to do with her mother. In a way, the knowledge that she could be used against Elvira created a tiny glow within her. Made her feel like maybe she was more than just a castoff to Elvira. She almost felt a little sorry that she’d been so easily captured. Though she resented Elvira, Raina didn’t think her birth mother deserved a lifetime of marriage to this man.

“If I’m not here as a bargaining chip then what the fuck am I here for?” Raina demanded.

“You will watch your language and speak with respect,” he said his brows lowering over hard, dark eyes. Something about his swift displeasure made Raina cringe inside. He was one scary son-of-a-bitch. “You are here because you belong to Vee. This is your place now.”

Raina frowned and shook her head, trying to take his simple words in and decipher their meaning. “But I don’t even know her!”

“You can easily get to know your mother, I haven’t blocked your access to her. You should meet her, develop a relationship, she is an extraordinary woman.”

Raina guessed as much from what little she got from Mateo and Sotza. She was beginning to understand that her mother was some kind of force to be reckoned with. Raina eyed her captor, her sharp mind whirling. “Why do you want her so bad? Is it because she’s so extraordinary?”

“Among other things. She’s passionate, loyal, determined. All qualities I admire and wish for in a wife. She is also very beautiful.”

“But she seems so cold and unapproachable. I’ve seen her up in that window, watching everything.” Raina didn’t really know if Elvira was cold, but it helped her to imagine her mother was awful.

“She isn’t cold Raina. She’s scared. There’s a difference.”

“I don’t get it, what does she have to be scared of? I saw how angry she was that first day you had her here.” Raina had secretly admired the way Elvira had screamed and fought Sotza when he’d dragged her in the house.

“She’s scared she’ll marry me, fall in love and then I’ll turn on her, like her late husband. She’s scared you’ll reject her even though she loves you more than anyone else on the planet.” He delivered the words calmly, though they felt like a punch to the gut for Raina.

She picked at an artfully arranged hole in her jeans while she contemplated his statement. What had Elvira’s ex-husband done to her? And why did Raina care, she was a stranger. “So what if I reject her? She deserves it.”

“And why is that?” He asked, giving her that look of his that sent shivers straight down her spine. “She deserves to have a daughter who hates her? Why? Because she did everything in her power to protect you, give you a life filled with love and certainty.”

Raina snorted. “Look how well that turned out. I’ve been kidnapped and now I’m being held captive, probably for the rest of my life, according to you. Yeah, she did awesome.”

“You are spoiled, child.”

She was angry with his assertion. She was far from spoiled. She’d worked hard her whole life despite never-ending health struggles. She even managed a lucrative forgery setup. She opened her mouth to tell him off, but he stopped her.

“I don’t mean you don’t have work ethic. I’ve seen transcripts of your grades and heard about your dedication to martial arts. No, I mean you’ve been spoiled with love. With an adoptive family that loves you and gave you the best world they were capable of. A child that is content, happy, spoiled, is one that has trouble seeing the world beyond their bubble. You lack compassion for the woman who has given you life and did her best to make that life a good one, despite the pain it caused her.”

Raina was speechless. Was she spoiled? Did he have a point? She’d been searching for her mother for years. Telling herself that she wanted to confront the woman who abandoned her. Now it seemed she needed to adjust her worldview.

Sotza stood, placed his hand on her hair for a second as though sympathizing with her confusion. Raina looked up at him when he spoke again. “You were young when your body began to fail, too young to question where the money came from for your medical bills. But now you are grown, and from what I can see, not entirely stupid. Would a mother who abandoned her child, a mother that didn’t love her child, spend nineteen years watching over her?”

Raina sat in stunned silence as Sotza walked from the room, leaving her alone with her confused state of mind.

24

It took another day before Raina worked up the courage to visit her mother. She’d spent that time turning every tiny detail she knew about Elvira over and over in her mind, until she finally came to the conclusion that she needed to just go see the woman. Decide for herself if Elvira was cold and unapproachable or the caring mother Sotza wanted her to believe she was.

She went to his office and told Sotza she was ready. He’d nodded briefly and sent her upstairs with one of his men. The guy had silently unlocked the door and waved her inside. Raina took a steadying breath and stepped through the door. Her eyes went immediately to the petite blond woman staring out the window. Elvira didn’t turn around, giving Raina the advantage of being able to study her for a moment. Elvira’s hair was shorter and straighter than Raina’s, but otherwise they were probably the same height and weight. Even the way Elvira held her body, stiff, shoulders back, head tilted, was familiar.

“What do you want?” Elvira said coldly, her voice husky.

Raina was shocked until she realized her mother probably thought she was Sotza. “I can leave if you want,” she said tentatively.

Elvira spun around so fast she stumbled and had to reach behind herself to grab the windowsill for balance. Raina’s heart thumped painfully and she could feel her face heating. She felt ill-prepared for this meeting and part of her wanted to rush out of the room. But she’d come, and she was going to stay, for a little while at least. Dig up the truth of Sotza’s words.

Her mother was a stunningly beautiful woman. Raina had never thought of herself as particularly good-looking. But now, staring into features that were so similar, so arrestingly lovely, she began to feel some pride in sharing facial features with such a beautiful woman. Without thought, she lifted a hand to her own face, touching her cheek for a second. Elvira had the same face shape, same wide blue eyes, same bow-shaped mouth with the fuller bottom lip.

“Raina,” she said, taking a few steps toward her daughter.

It was clear from the look on her face that she was not the cool, calculating woman Raina had thought she was. Or at least not when it came to her daughter. Her striking blue eyes were filling with tears and she was shaking with emotion, her breaths coming out in quick, uneven gasps.

Raina felt the wetness in her eyes. There were so many things she wanted to know, wanted to ask. She still felt the same old hurt, but it was softened by the love shining bright and clear in Elvira’s face.

Before Raina could speak, Elvira took another step forward and said in a shaking voice, “Please, sit down. I’m sure you have a thousand questions for me.”

Raina nodded and took a few steps into the room, her eyes darting around. She decided to sit in the chair. She wasn’t ready to get too close to her birth mother. Elvira sat down on the end of the bed, facing Raina. She twisted her hands together, her eyes devouring Raina from head to foot. Raina was doing the same thing. She wanted to see and know everything about Elvira Montana. But she couldn’t seem to find her voice.

Elvira’s gaze softened. “You must be wondering why.” Her voice wavered as she struggled with tears. “Why I gave you up, how you ended up here, in this place.”

Raina nodded. She wanted to know all those things, but mostly, she wanted Elvira to keep speaking in her lovely husky voice. She wanted to listen to this woman who gave birth to her, memorize everything about her. Then she felt a sharp stab of guilt, pain as she thought of her adoptive parents. People that she loved unreservedly, but that she hadn’t really thought of much since arriving, except a gnawing worry over how they must be feeling with Raina missing.

“I was barely a child myself when I found out I was pregnant. Younger than you are now,” Elvira said, her eyes darkening. “But if that had been the only complication, I would have kept you in a heartbeat. I would have made my way as a single mother.”

“Then why?” Raina asked, swiping at tears.

Elvira seemed to struggle with her words. Finally, she said, her voice hardening, “I belong to the mafia, Raina. My parents were mafia, I’m mafia – it’s my whole life. It’s not a proper life for anyone, especially a child, a girl. I didn’t want that for you and that would’ve been the outcome if I’d kept you. I had to make a choice, a hard one.”

Raina turned the words over, struggling to reconcile the way she felt about this woman for her entire life and the reality. As Elvira spoke, Raina’s resentment ebbed. Raina had never imagined what it might be like to become involved in the mafia, had no real understanding of the brutality that must be involved. She’d been too sheltered. Of course, she knew the mafia existed. Had seen documentaries and the news. But that was a life that never touched her. Until now. These last couple of weeks, being here, with hard men who wore guns and used violence to get their point across. She kind of got it.

“I wanted better for you,” Elvira continued, her voice stronger now. “I would have done anything to ensure your future was different from mine.”

“But why didn’t you just come with me, why not just take me and disappear?” Raina asked.

Elvira opened her mouth to answer, then closed it and shook her head. She looked like she was struggling to find the right words. Finally, she said, “It was too dangerous, Raina. You have to understand, once a person is in the mafia, especially deep, like I was… like I am, it becomes impossible to leave. There really isn’t any place to just disappear that they won’t find you.”

Raina didn’t like the answer, but she was beginning to understand. She took a deep breath and asked, “Can you tell me more? Tell me what it was like for you?”

Elvira nodded and settled onto the bed, relaxing slightly. “Some parts of it were amazing. I can’t find fault with the money, the jewels and clothes. It wasn’t worth the bullshit that came with it, men treating me like a commodity, but those other things were always a nice perk.”

Raina’s lips twitched and she felt herself beginning to smile despite the intense moment. She’d discovered she also enjoyed the freedom money could buy, had found her own little piece of the underworld to achieve that financial freedom. “How did you meet our lovely host?” she asked, beginning to form her own conclusion. She’d definitely guessed at Sotza’s shadiness, but now that she knew her mother was mafia, she pretty much figured Sotza would be the same.

Elvira laughed. “It’s somewhat complex, but basically, my boss sent him after me when I started having trouble keeping Miami under control. You see, I’d managed to climb my way up the ladder until I controlled my own little slice of the pie.”

Rather than being horrified that her mother was more firmly entrenched in the mafia than she could have imagined, she was curious. And a little bit proud. If what Raina was understanding was true, then her mother, a beautiful and relatively young woman, was the boss of a criminal organization.

“So your boss wanted you to get married to this Sotza guy?” Raina asked.

“No,” Elvira said darkly. “My boss wanted me dead. Sotza’s the one that decided he wanted something else from me. I think I intrigued him, the female mob boss that refused to give up her city.”

The emotions that whirled through Raina surfaced and clashed one at a time. She was shocked, she was horrified. But she was also impressed. Elvira sounded like a force to be reckoned with. Even if she’d ended up the captive of a powerful man, she’d fought valiantly. “That’s so medieval,” Raina said, both awe and disgust in her voice. “He’s forcing you into marriage and the alternate is… what? Death?”

Elvira’s lips twitched again, and she said, “That’s a little simplistic, but yes, I suppose you have the basics correct. Although, at this point, I suspect there is no alternative to Sotza.”

Raina frowned. “But you have to keep fighting him, you’ll find a way out. You can’t be forced into marriage.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” The words were spoken softly but seemed to hold a wealth of emotion.

Raina was beginning to see the depth of her mother’s life. And it hadn’t been an easy one. “Can you tell me about it?” she asked, standing. She moved shyly toward the bed. Vee moved over, making room for her. Raina sat, making sure to keep a little distance between them.

Vee sighed. “It’s really not a pretty story, but if you want to know, I’ll tell you. There are things you’ll learn about me that you might not want to know.”

“I’ll risk it,” Raina said with a small smile. “I’d like to know.”

“Alright,” Vee agreed and looked down at her lap, as though gathering the words. “I was well into my 20’s when I met Tony. You’d been gone for several years already. Up until that point I’d only experimented with drugs. I drank too much, but it was part of the life. We women went to the clubs, we drank, we danced, we became conquests for the tough guys. I was smarter than others, used my looks to get as much as I could out of the guys. Then I met Tony. He swept me off my feet, and not in a good way. He was an underling to Frank, the man I was living with at the time. He decided he wanted Frank’s empire and, after a while of working for him, Tony took over.”

“How did he do that?” Raina whispered, terribly afraid she already knew.

Vee looked over at her, a dullness to her eyes now. “Tony murdered Frank and some of his top guys. Then Tony moved in and set his own people up. A classic takeover. And, as in many takeovers, I was a commodity, passed on to the next guy. Maybe I could have disappeared, tried to leave in the confusion. But Tony had a bead on me, and I’d begun to use more. Become dependent on drugs and alcohol to dull all that shit.”

“Drugs?” Raina asked, trying to keep the accusation from her voice. She’d always considered drug addicts as weak, unable or unwilling to find the courage to quit. Now that she was listening to her mother’s story, Raina was beginning to question her assumptions.

“Cocaine,” Vee said succinctly. “Our main product. Tony became addicted too.”

The disdain Vee felt for her late husband was clear in her voice. “He was pretty awful?” Raina asked softly, feeling more than just curiosity now. She was seeing the incredible, painful life of this woman and it hurt.

“Yes,” Vee said, her voice low. “I was his property. His pretty ornament. Just something to decorate his arm and his mansion. He didn’t love me and he certainly never respected me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the type to fade into the background. I spoke back to him, often. Which resulted in a lot fighting.”

Raina’s stomach clenched. She took in her petite mother, saw her as she must have been, addicted to cocaine, fighting for her rights in a world that didn’t acknowledge the rights of women like her. “He hit you?”

Vee laughed bitterly and inclined her head in a semi-nod. She didn’t elaborate though.

Raina supposed she didn’t want to get into the worst of it. “What happened to him?” she asked, though she was beginning to suspect she knew. If Tony had killed Frank and taken over his organization, then Vee must’ve done something to earn her way to the top of Miami’s mafia.

“He’s dead.” Vee was matter-of-fact, though her shoulders were stiff with tension. No doubt, waiting for Raina’s judgment. Her tone of voice indicated the subject was closed, that Raina shouldn’t push the how of Tony’s death. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know yet anyway.

“Good.” Raina hardened her voice. Maybe her mother was a murderer, had blood on her hands. Had fought her way to the top of a criminal food chain. But life had shaped her this way. She could have given up years ago, stayed on drugs and lived a shadowed life until she was no longer pretty enough to capture the attention of those tough guys. “You’re clean now, you don’t take drugs?”

Vee looked at her seriously. “I haven’t used in over a year. But that’s not long, Raina. Any addict will tell you, once an addict always an addict. And a year clean is only a drop in the bucket.”

Raina thought about it, turned her mother’s words over in her head. They made sense, but she was beginning to know this woman, beginning to see the extraordinary things Sotza saw in her. “You won’t go back on drugs,” Raina said confidently.

Vee smiled. A real smile that showed her teeth and she reached out to touch Raina, the first time the two women had touched since Raina was a baby. “Thank you.”

Raina nodded as Vee’s hand fell away from her arm. She missed the touch. She could feel the spot on her arm, almost like it burned, her awareness was so heightened. She turned on the bed, bringing her knee up and said, “You can’t do it again. You can’t marry another mobster who… who just takes you. As though you’re some kind of prize. It isn’t right, you earned more, you deserve more.”

Vee blinked rapidly and Raina thought she might cry. She took a couple of breaths and finally said, “I appreciate that you think that, Raina. You have no idea how much it means to me. But I don’t have a choice. In less than a week Sotza will marry me.”

Raina shook her head. “But why? There has to be a way out! We’ll find something.”

Vee smiled gently, her face smooth and happy as she looked Raina over. As though pride in her daughter was erasing all the sadness of her situation. And Raina knew, though her mother didn’t say a word, that as long as Sotza had her, then Vee would do anything he asked. Even though he insisted Raina wasn’t a bargaining chip, Vee would never risk it.

“Now it’s time for you to tell me about yourself, Raina.” Vee’s voice had changed from melancholy to eager. “Don’t leave out any details. I want to know everything.”

25

The week that Vee and Raina spent getting to know each other was the best that Vee had ever experienced. Raina came to Vee’s room every day and spent hours with her, telling her about her life with her adoptive parents, her time at University, her friends, everything. Vee soaked up each new fact like a starving woman. She thought, if this moment ever came, that it would hurt to hear about her daughter’s life separate from hers. But instead of jealousy over her missed time, she could only feel gratitude that Raina had grown into such a lovely young woman.

Vee had more difficulty sharing her own life with Raina, after their first conversation. There wasn’t much about her past that she was proud of or that was good enough that it wouldn’t be a burden for Raina to know. So instead, Vee encouraged her daughter to talk about herself. Once Raina started to set aside the hurt she’d carried with her since childhood, she was happy to open up to her birth mother. And Vee was more than happy to listen. She loved knowing that, despite Raina’s serious health issues, she’d experienced a contented life. For that, Vee felt she owed Diane and Joe Duncan. They’d done exactly as they’d promised, given Raina everything that Vee couldn’t.

Raina showed a maturity for her years that Vee was proud of. Raina was intelligent, determined and independent. She was in the process of putting herself through school, paying for it through a part-time job and her forgery set-up. Vee had wanted to pay Raina’s way through University, but the girl was sharp and old enough to have questioned where the money came from. So Vee had watched from the shadows, ready to step in if it looked like Raina was struggling. Far from struggling though, the child had used her keen mind and kept her own source of funds flowing. Vee was pretty sure that she should scold the girl for doing something illegal, that as a parent she was supposed to try to steer her child on the straight and narrow, but she couldn’t seem to summon any disapproval. She was impressed with Raina for finding a relatively harmless but lucrative method of supplementing her income.

The more time Vee spent with Raina the more her hatred toward Sotza waned. Despite his less than savoury method of procuring her child, he was still responsible for reuniting the two women. He also encouraged them to spend as much time as they wanted together in the week leading up to the wedding.

Though grudgingly, Vee was also grateful for the safe environment that Sotza provided for their reunification. She couldn’t have contact with Raina while she was under Tony’s thumb and she couldn’t risk contact after she became the queen of Miami. At that point she’d had to let the idea of ever seeing Raina again go. She couldn’t risk enemies catching wind of her weakness. Especially when she experienced so many problems from the Mexican cartel. But now, under Sotza’s roof, Vee and Raina were safe. Though Vee was still angry at the way things had played out in Miami, she was grateful for this unexpected opportunity.

After their first conversation, Vee and Raina stopped talking about how to get Vee out of her upcoming nuptials. She assured her daughter that she was fine, that she was would make the best of the situation and eventually escape when opportunity presented itself. Instead they spent the days talking about life, preparing for the wedding and making plans. Though wary of her soon-to-be stepfather, Raina had become decidedly bossy when it came to Vee having the best of everything for her wedding. She directed the ordering of Vee’s gown and talked to the chef about their reception.

During her incarceration, Sotza’s mealtime visits to her room continued. He talked while she listened, but instead of ignoring him, she occasionally contributed to the conversation. She’d been unable to hold back. She wanted… needed to tell someone about Raina. About how smart the girl was, how proud Vee was of her. She also needed to talk through her feelings. Not something she’d ever really done before. But Sotza’s persistent, quietly thoughtful presence wore her down until she found herself telling him things she wouldn’t normally ever consider divulging. Not even to Casey, whom she considered her best friend.

“And she’s funded almost her entire University education with this document forgery set-up she has going. I think her job at the campus library is just a front in case anyone looks deeper into her financial situation. She must be quite good at forging to be doing as well as she is,” Vee told him when he stopped in for breakfast that morning. “I mean, part of me thinks I should warn her to stay away from that sort of thing. But she’s so smart, I just know she won’t get herself in any trouble. What do you think, Sotza?”

He had looked at her, silent for a moment, his dark brown eyes warming a little as he considered her. “I think she’s as smart as her mother. She’ll figure it out as she goes, and we’ll be here for her if she missteps and needs help.” Vee felt a tiny glow at the way he said we, as though he was as invested in Raina’s future as she was. She hadn’t known what to say, so she’d stayed silent while he continued. “I also think it’s time you started calling me Isaac.”

“Why would I do that?” She frowned at him.

His lips curved in genuine amusement. “Because it is my name, cariño.”

Her mouth had opened in shock for a moment and then she said the first thing that jumped into her mind. “But I thought your name was just Sotza.”

He’d chuckled. “Most people have first and last names, Vee. Sometimes even middle names.”

“Do you have a middle name,” she asked curiously.

He’d stood and approached her. Vee was too stunned by the knowledge of his first name to think about moving away. So when he touched her, running his hand from her wrist, up her arm to her face and touching her cheek lightly, she just blinked at him, waiting for him to speak. His touch sent tingles through her. It was so light but so evocative. She had the urge to melt into him.

“I suppose you’ll have to wait and see if I have a middle name.”

“Wait for what?” she whispered, tilting her head up to look at him. She liked the way his face softened just a little whenever they talked like this.

“You’ll have to wait for the priest to say our names on our wedding day, joining them together,” he said, his voice dropping a little. Her breath caught and fire erupted in her veins as both his fingers and his words touched her. It was probably the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her, yet it had that tiny bit of his sinister brand.

Sotza dropped his lips to hers, kissing her. It wasn’t exactly a chaste kiss nor was it punishing. Instead, his lips coaxed hers. He curved his long fingers along the side of her head burying them in her hair and holding her face still. He pressed his mouth to hers, breathing in as he lowered his head, taking in her scent and groaning a little as it hit him. And though she could feel the passion of his kiss, feel the rigid tension in his body, he held himself back from devouring her. She was helpless against him. She hesitated for just a moment and then pressed herself against him, tilting her face to deepen their kiss.

He brought his other hand up, clutching her head, holding her still for his exploration. Her breathing grew rapidly uneven, mingling with his as he deepened their kiss. The slight roughness of his chin and cheeks against her softer skin sent a thrill through her. Her nipples hardened in response and her lower belly felt as though it was melting. She almost wished he would raise her skirt, touch her where she ached to be touched. Where she hadn’t wanted anyone to touch her in so long, couldn’t stand the thought. Sotza… Isaac… was showing her how wrong she’d been. He was thawing her out.

He didn’t lift her skirt, didn’t touch her breasts. Instead, he lifted his head. Held onto hers for a moment longer, looking down into her eyes, powerful emotion blazing in his dark depths. Then he released her, stepping away. He kept a hand on her arm until she was steady and then he picked up her empty breakfast tray and moved to the door.

“Do you know my middle name?” Vee asked, her voice huskier than usual. He paused, the grooves around his mouth deepening as he fought a smile.

“I do,” he admitted.

“Well, what is it?” she demanded breathlessly.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her aroused body and flooding her with more sensations. “I guess you’ll find out on our wedding day.”

And for the first time, Vee genuinely laughed in his presence.

26

The bride had mixed feelings on her wedding day. Sotza did not. Every step he took with Vee felt right. Felt like destiny. Which wasn’t something he’d ever considered before. He believed that life was what you made it. Every move he made was carefully calculated, the outcome prearranged and optimized. He looked at the world and understood how it worked. He made sure there were no surprises, and when there were, he went to work.

Vee had been a surprise. He hadn’t expected the Miami madam to take hold of him, sweep him up in her storm and grip him in a way nothing else had. He’d loved before. And he’d lost. That woman was perfection in every way. Light-hearted, carefree, beautiful. She had been the light to his darkness. When she married someone else he had chosen to love from afar. He could have taken her, could have forced her into his life, as he was doing with Vee. But he hadn’t, had thought at the time that he preferred to give the woman he loved anything she wanted, even if what she wanted was another man.

Now he understood that his attachment to Sandra, Casey Reyes’ mother, hadn’t been as deep as he thought. His feelings for Sandra had been genuine affection and appreciation, heartbreak when she was killed. What he felt for Vee was soul deep. It gripped his heart, the very fibre of his being, and latched on. He didn’t know if it was love. It felt like more than love. It was possessive. Intense. Consuming and obsessive. She occupied all of his thoughts, his decisions now based on her best interests, her comfort, hopefully her future happiness. He used to believe that men obsessed with their wives became weak, but Vee made him strong. She made him wary and protective. He would never let her go.

He watched her step out of the vehicle, Mateo on one side of her and Raina on the other. Three more bodyguards surrounded the group. She was magnificent. Her beautiful, radiant exterior the perfect wrapping for a deep, dark woman. A woman that called to him. She owned him. And he was about to make it legal.

He couldn’t wait to bind her to him. He believed if she’d still been married when he met her he would’ve killed her husband and taken her anyway, quite the same way Reyes had acquired his wife. His sharp eyes followed her as she walked up the steps to meet him at the top. She was breathtakingly elegant in her strapless golden wedding dress. The dress draped in a straight line, hugging her petite curves from top to bottom, the colour setting off her radiant glow. It fit her perfectly.

He held a hand out to her as she approached, her intelligent sapphire gaze steady on his face. He wondered if she would take it or if she would ignore it. If she would balk, refuse to touch him and make a show of her reluctance to marry. Though he enjoyed their dance, he found her unpredictable. Never knew if she would attack or treat him with cold indifference. He lived for the moments she finally warmed, unable to help herself from melting as he stole a kiss.

Vee stepped up to him, so close that the bottom of her dress flared a little around her sandaled feet and brushed his pant leg. Without taking her eyes from his she took his hand, sliding her fingers across his palm and locking them together. She might be a reluctant bride, might still be angry, but she was declaring an alliance. Satisfaction flooded through him as he closed his fingers around her slim hand, trapping her in his hold. Together they turned and entered the church.

Sotza had the church built on his land decades ago, a place for his employees and their families to worship. He didn’t go often. Didn’t feel he had any right to such a place of goodness. But on his wedding day, he felt the need to attach his bride to his side in the humble building, a place that was stamped by him, a place within his control. He wouldn’t allow a single security issue to mess up his wedding day.

Their walk to the alter was short. The pews were already occupied by many of his people. He was a little surprised at how many showed up. The wedding wasn’t a mandatory event. Yet the place was filled, some even left standing. He nodded toward Armand, head of his internal security. Sotza didn’t think he’d ever seen the man in anything less than his full combat gear. He lived, ate and breathed security. Yet, here he was, at a wedding, wearing a suit, a young woman at his side.

What drew them to the church? Was it curiosity, boredom or true loyalty to their leader? Glancing down at Vee, he remembered the loyalty she’d inspired in her people. The way they flocked to her, tried to protect her, would lay down their lives for her. She was vicious in her own right, but she was also passionate, warm and kind, when the occasion warranted. She was exactly the woman he wanted at his side, inspiring these same feelings in his people. Perhaps they were drawn to the church to see the woman that had finally captured Sotza’s attention.

Though a catholic ceremony, Sotza had ensured that the ceremony wouldn’t be a long one. He was done waiting for this woman, done watching her every move, his imagination wild with the things he wanted to do with and to her. It was like he’d waited years for Elvira and a moment more was too much. He ran his thumb over her hand, feeling the delicate bone structure beneath. Now his to take care of until one of them left the Earth.

He repeated his vows solemnly, only stopping to throw Vee a small smile when their full names were spoken. She blushed when, instead of a simple ‘I do’ he repeated the vow, “I, Isaac Rafael Sotza, take Elvira Vivian Montana to be my lawfully wedded wife.”

When it was her turn, she lifted her chin and repeated the same vow. Almost. “I, Vee Montana, take Isaac Rafael Sotza to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

He wanted to laugh but held it in. She was giving him a gift. By repeating their names the way she had, she’d declared in front of God, his people, everyone, that she was now his partner. His equal. The queen that would stand by his side and rule his kingdom with him.

It was perfect.

She was perfect.

27

When the wedding ceremony ended they went up to the main house to enjoy an extravagant and delicious brunch, overseen by Raina. For the first time Vee was able to observe her daughter and Sotza together. It was clear that Sotza indulged the girl, had perhaps even grown fond of her, though it was hard to tell. He kept his emotions carefully contained, his face rarely showing his thoughts, though she detected a modicum of warmth in his gaze as he tracked the girl across the room, watched silently while she bossed his staff.

Vee was surprised when Sotza leaned down to tell her that their car was ready. She looked up at him, frowning in question. “Our honeymoon,” he explained.

She hadn’t thought there would be any kind of honeymoon. She expected him to treat the marriage as more of a business transaction now that the deed was done. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised though, given the fiery nature of their relationship and Sotza’s tendency toward the old-fashioned.

After saying their good-byes, they were driven to the airstrip where a plane was waiting for them. It wasn’t the same plane she had arrived in. This one was smaller, built to carry fewer people. Sotza opened the passenger side and lifted her easily up into the craft. He took the pilot seat, leaning across her to belt her in. After making sure she was comfortable he checked the instruments and had a brief conversation with Mateo, who he was leaving in charge while they were away.

It was clear that Sotza was an expert at flying. Vee’s eyes followed the movements of his strong, veined hands. She watched the way he scanned the horizon and made adjustments to the instruments. It was sexy. There was something about the ease and careful control he showed while flying that got to her. Tony had been controlling, but he hadn’t been able to maintain control. He was addicted to his own product, he was violent, but not in the same way as Sotza. Tony had been an angry man. If something didn’t go his way then he would become infuriated, blame everyone except himself. Somehow Vee suspected Sotza was far different. He was definitely violent, but every move he made was calculated, controlled to produce a result.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked. She was eager to know, but hesitant to find out.

Sotza looked over at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I have an island off the coast. We’ll spend a few days there. I know you won’t want to be away from Raina for long.”

He was right. It had been a wrench to leave her daughter behind, even for a few days. Just before they left the mansion Raina had hugged her. It was the first time. Vee had teared up but turned her face away so no one would see her emotion. She’d held her daughter close, pressing her tight, for just a few seconds, before releasing her.

“Will we land right on the island?” Vee asked.

“No, we’ll land outside of Caracas, drive to the coast and take a boat out to the island.”

Caracas. The capital city of Venezuela. Vee had trouble wrapping her brain around the idea that she was in this place. That she’d travelled so far from her home. As sophisticated as she tried to present herself, she was still just a big fish in a small pond when it came to Miami. Travelling internationally had always been a distant dream, something she’d aspired to as she worked on educating herself through the years, but not something she thought would actually happen.

She pressed her hand against the window, watching eagerly as the city unfolded below them. The sun was just beginning to set, lighting up the valley in an array of colours. “It’s so beautiful!” she exclaimed, as she tried to search out individual assets of a city steeped in history.

Sotza spoke to her, raising his voice so she could hear him above the engine. He pointed out cathedrals, downtown Caracas, the industrial district. His knowledge of the capital was vast and his pride in his country came through loud and clear. He stopped talking to her as he prepared to land. She admired the easy way he maneuvered the craft, setting them down lightly on the tarmac. There were so many things to appreciate about the man. It seemed strange that they’d started out as bitter enemies. Well… she’d just been business to him, but she’d hated the very idea of him. The Venezuelan Butcher, in her city, sent to take her down.

Now they were married. Thrown together through circumstance but merged through his dogged determination. It was a difficult thing to resist, his unwavering drive to possess her. In her life time Vee had been coveted, she’d been passed around, she’d been a possession. But no one had wanted her the way Sotza did, saw the things in her that he did.

She raised her arms when he leaned in to unbuckle her, reaching up to brush her hair aside so it wouldn’t catch in the belt. She breathed in his scent, looked down at the smooth darkness of his hair while he touched her. He was such a strange contradiction of old world formality and sharp intelligence. He saw her strengths and encouraged them, rather than beat them out of her. Now that she was well and truly caught by the Venezuelan arms dealer, she could allow herself to bask in the exhilarating sensation of his deep regard for her.

He jumped out of the plane first, coming around to her side and opening the door. She waited for him, knowing he would want to assist her. When he reached for her, she turned in her seat and slid out of the plane. His strong hands circling her waist, he lifted her out and set her on the ground in front of him. She twisted around and looked up. He searched her face for a moment and then took her hand, leading her toward the hangar.

“Where’s our security?” she asked curiously. It had been so long since she’d gone anywhere by herself that the freedom of being alone, without protection, was both frightening and freeing.

“The only person who knows of our honeymoon plans is Mateo. I didn’t want anyone else disturbing us. Of course, there’s security on the island itself, but they will be discreet.”

Vee felt her face heat and wanted to roll her eyes at herself. She was a thirty-seven-year old woman with a lifetime of experience. But something about this man made her feel shy. She hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed. While experienced, she hadn’t been called on to do much in the bedroom department. Just entertain the men that expected a fuck. Somehow, she thought faking it wouldn’t go over with Sotza. He was too subtle, too nuanced. He would want honesty from her. Could she give it to him?

The short drive to the coast was mostly in silence. Vee was too nervous to speak. Normally she might break silence like this with a biting, snappy comment, but today, she had nothing to say. Sotza had lapsed into his typical quiet. He never seemed to feel the need to fill silence with conversation. He only spoke when he had something to say.

Two men, wearing the standard security uniform of green and black, met them at the docks. Sotza briefly introduced Vee to Juan and John. She had to swallow a laugh at their names as she solemnly shook their hands. Sotza instructed her to go to either of the men if she needed anything. He told his men that they were to listen to Vee without hesitation. She understood. He didn’t mean they would help her with meals or household chores. Sotza trusted her to recognize threats and to go to these two men if she had concerns about their safety. She wanted to thank him for acknowledging her ability to assess a situation and call the shots when needed, but she held her tongue. Their whirlwind marriage, preceded by a contentious and bloody engagement, made her question everything. Him, herself, their situation. She wasn’t ready to feel gratitude toward Sotza.

The sun had set as the boat docked and Sotza reached for her arm and helped her step out of the boat while his men secured it. She walked off the dock and onto the sand. The hem of her skirt brushed the sand and when she tried to kneel down to unbuckle her sandals, the dress stretched tight across her ass and hips, preventing her.

“Let me,” Sotza said, his voice a husky timbre.

She held her breath as he went down on one knee in front of her in the sand. The back of his hands brushed her skin, sending tingles up her leg as his sure fingers worked quickly with the tiny, delicate buckle. In seconds she was free.

“Lift your foot,” he said sliding his hand up her bare calf, beneath her dress, holding her so she could step out of the shoe. She braced herself with one hand on his back and lifted her foot, sinking it into the sand. He quickly helped her with the next until she was standing barefoot. The smooth, cool sand embraced her.

Vee grinned, turning away from him and walking toward the water. She inhaled deeply, taking in the ocean scent, so familiar yet also different. She walked from dry sand to wet, holding her skirt around her knees, and sighed as the water rushed over her toes up to her ankles. It was wonderful. Slightly cool, but not uncomfortable.

“You missed it,” Sotza said coming up behind her.

She nodded. “It’s a powerful thing. Sometimes wonderful, sometimes terrifying. But the one thing it isn’t, is judgmental. The ocean is steady, it never leaves. No matter what was happening in my life, I could always go back, like I was going home.”

“I understand,” he said. “I feel the same about my jungle. It’s wild, untamed. Growing up, I became a part of it. When I went to boarding school in England the separation was unbearable. Like a physical disturbance in my soul.”

Vee looked up at him. His words were quite poetic for such a practical man. She wondered if anyone else had ever heard The Butcher speak in such a way.

He picked up her shoes for her and ushered her toward an all-terrain vehicle. They sat in the back while his men sat in the front. She wondered where the guards would stay. She hoped not in the house with them. Vee was nervous enough without having men she didn’t know or trust hanging around too close. She glanced at Sotza. His head was turned toward her, but she couldn’t see his eyes in the dim interior. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her though, knew he was contemplating the night to come.

He helped her out of the vehicle, holding the door open for her. She winced when a rock bit into the bottom of her foot.

“I’m sorry, I should have realized,” he said, and before she knew what was happening, her feet were swept right out from under her and she was lifted up against Sotza’s chest. She knew he was strong, tougher even than many of the younger men that traipsed around his property. He held her effortlessly and strode toward the house. One of his men tried to get the door for them, but Sotza was too quick. In the blink of an eye he was carrying her across the threshold.

“Smooth,” Vee murmured. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that was planned.”

Sotza stared down at her. There was no amusement in his eyes, just heat. Like he was finally allowing himself to feel everything he’d been holding back, showing her those emotions. And if she was right, he wanted her desperately, lust blazing clear through his dark, enigmatic gaze.

“Leave,” he threw over his shoulder.

His men didn’t need further instructions, they closed the door and left Sotza and Vee alone. He didn’t put her down. He carried her through the house, which was illuminated with soft lighting. Her heart pounded and she could barely catch her breath. She dug her nails into his shoulder and held on tight as they entered the bedroom.

He carried her to the bed, a huge four poster that dominated the room, and laid her on it. He knelt on the bed beside her, looking down at her, his dark eyes ravenous, his features creased in hunger. He looked like a Spanish conqueror. He was a Spanish conqueror. He took the things he wanted without mercy. He’d earned the nickname Butcher through his ruthless bid to claim territory, his effortless ability to take out the obstacles in his path and his terrifying methods of subduing his enemies.

And she was his prize. His wife.

“Sotza… please,” she whispered as he leaned back to remove his jacket.

“Isaac,” he corrected her.

“Isaac.” His name came out a breathless gasp, a plea.

28

Vee was afraid.

She hadn’t been afraid like this in a long time. She could handle people shooting at her. Knives, gas canisters, whatever. She’d experienced a lot of bad stuff and caused her fair share too. But this… was different. Being intimate with a man like Sotza, it was too much. Though they’d spent a little time getting to know each other, it wasn’t nearly enough. Not enough to give her the courage to go to bed with a man like him.

She summoned up some courage and said in the coolest voice she could manage, “Please excuse me, I need to wash up.”

She didn’t give him a chance to respond. She pushed past him and slipped off the bed. Gathering her carry-all case she walked toward the washroom.

“Closet.” Sotza said as she reached for the knob.

She peeked inside. Yup, it was a closet. She felt dizzy from anxiety and reached automatically for the next door as though it were a lifeline. He didn’t say another word as she disappeared into the washroom. She let out the breath she’d been holding, slumping back against the door. She covered her eyes with shaking hands and counted, the way her addictions counsellor had taught her if she felt overwhelmed. Each number was a space in time, a pause to consider, a way of appreciating each moment of life. She whispered the numbers out loud, forcing herself to turn each one over on her tongue and in her mind. Feel the pause and appreciate her ability to have that precious time.

When she reached five, she was able to peek through her fingers and sit down on the edge of a spacious cream-coloured marble tub. At six she fully opened her eyes and looked around, taking in the gorgeous washroom. It was elegant with hints of tropical. Even nicer than Nico Graza’s washroom, which she had appreciated during their time in Mexico.

“Eight,” she said out loud, pausing to reach under her dress for her gun, which she’d strapped to her thigh. She set it on the counter, focusing on it, absorbing the control it gave her. It was the weapon Sotza had given her. He hadn’t taken it back. He wasn’t stupid enough to have forgotten about it. He allowed her to keep it for a reason. Either he trusted her not to shoot him, which was insane, or he thought he was impervious to bullets. With his reputation he might very well be bulletproof.

“Twelve.” The tightness in her chest eased and she took her first full breath since Sotza carried her into the house.

The door opened. He didn’t knock, didn’t call her name or warn her. He just walked in and looked down at her, his face as grim as ever. He’d only given her a few seconds to compose herself. She wanted to yell at him, tell him he was a pervert, a kidnapper, that he wasn’t fair. But none of it mattered. Life wasn’t fair. She’d spent decades proving that theory. Life was what you made it. Sotza had been determined to take her, and he did. Now, it was up to Vee to determine the next move.

Her throat was dry, she had to swallow before she could speak. She gave him the best piercing stare she had in her repertoire. Given the incredible make-up job Mariana, Vee’s maid, had done for the wedding, Vee knew that her pointed look was both stunning and confident.

“I need more time,” she said as steadily as she could.

“No,” he said instantly. He was standing straight and tall, filling the doorway. He’d discarded both his jacket and tie, rolled the cuffs of his shirt up his strong arms. As always, seeing The Butcher relax sent warning sparks of trepidation through her.

“Why?” she asked, standing, glad that her legs were steady enough to hold her. She was so much shorter than him that she needed every inch of height she could summon. “It makes no difference if we fuck now or later. I just… I don’t feel like it right now. If you’ll please leave, I’d like to get ready for bed.”

“More time won’t better prepare you, Vee,” he said evenly, his dark eyes sharp on her pale face. “We will consummate this marriage tonight.”

He stepped toward her. Vee stepped back, hitting the edge of the tub. She slid sideways, reaching for the sink. Reaching for her gun. “Consummation is old-fashioned garbage,” she said coldly, closing her fingers around the metal. The solid feel of the weapon in her hand calmed her. “I don’t feel like fucking right now, please go away.”

“This isn’t just fucking, Vee,” he said calmly, closing the space between them. She brought the gun between them, still holding it low. She couldn’t bring herself to raise it just yet, to actually threaten him. “That’s why you’re so scared, this is something else. Something you’ve never experienced.”

“What are we doing then, if not fucking?” she tried to sound scathing, but the words were breathless as she battled serious anxiety and the beginnings of arousal.

He moved so close the warmth of his big body touched her, wrapped around her bare arms and penetrated the thin fabric of her dress. She realized she was shaking, her hands, her arms, her legs. Everything was vibrating.

“You’re going to give your body to me tonight,” he said, leaning down, his face so close to hers she could see the tiny golden flecks in the dark drown. “And you’re terrified that if you give up your body, you’ll give up everything else. Your emotions, your control, your ability to fight. You’ve been fighting your whole life, Vee.” He reached up, slowly, and took her face in his hands. “Stop fighting me, cariño.”

And then, heedless of the gun between them, he wrapped an arm around her back, pulled her against his chest and kissed her. He kissed her with passion and longing, with the fire that’d been missing from every other kiss in her life, except her kisses with this man. She let him kiss her. Take her lips as he’d taken everything else that belonged to her. He wasn’t holding back anymore. She could feel the difference. Unlike the other times he’d kissed her, this kiss was more urgent, more desperate. It was a prelude.

One of his hands cupped the side of her head, holding her still, while the fingers of his other hand bit into her ribcage, so hard he was almost hurting her, showing her how near to the surface his savage was. As soon as he lifted his lips from hers, she opened her mouth to gasp for breath. She barely had a second and he was on her again. Vee didn’t know if she was participating or holding still for his assault. But as her passion rose to meet his, she didn’t care. She hung on tight, clinging to him with her one free hand.

He thrust his tongue into her mouth, taking everything in one sweep. He was commanding, demanding and completely unrepentant as he took her roughly. She was experiencing a new side of the Venezuelan mob boss. Passion mixed with violence. The combination of emotions was intensely heady, it called to her own savage. This was a side of Sotza that people sensed, but rarely experienced, except for those few he killed himself.

Finally, after allowing him control for a few stunned moments, she fought him for dominance, winding her arms around his neck and forcing his head down to hers. Her pulse soared, the blood pounding through her body, heating her from the inside out. Her skin felt on fire, alive and clambering for the man whose touch ignited her. She clutched his shoulders, digging her nails into his satin vest, before moving up to grip his head. She accidentally smacked him in the ear with her gun. Neither cared.

Sotza gripped her waist and lifted her onto the counter, his hands spanning her, holding her in place. Vee tried to open her legs, tried to grip him tighter between her thighs, bring him closer to the place that ached, but her skirt was too tight. She whimpered into his mouth. Understanding her dilemma, he held her in place with one arm and reached between them, reached for her skirt, thrusting it up past her thighs. She vaguely heard a seam rip as the delicate fabric gave way to his rough handling. The sound seemed to spur him on. He slammed his hips between her thighs, pressing his erection tight against her pussy. The leather of her thigh holster bit into her skin, heightening her already soaring arousal.

Vee moaned deep in her throat and tilted her head back, giving him access to her throat. She widened her legs and pulled him harder against her, tilting her hips to meet his, savouring the erotic sensations that flooded through her. Her nails scraped against his skin, her fingers desperate as she reached for the buttons on his vest, yanking at them. When they didn’t part for her, he reached impatiently between them and pulled the material apart, damaging the fabric.

Vee didn’t care, neither of them cared. She yanked his shirt up, desperately needing to feel his skin beneath her fingers. It felt so good, so right to touch him, to be touched by him. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t willingly done it before. Emotion flooded her as her seeking fingers finally touched bare skin and tears leapt to her eyes. She slid her hands across his belly and around his side, the cold metal of the gun touching his warm, smooth skin. Everywhere she touched he was hard. Skin stretched taut over muscle and bone. She felt the grooves in his belly from an intense workout regime. She wasn’t surprised. The man demanded perfection from his men. He would ask no less of himself. Age didn’t matter, nor circumstance or position. He was a born leader.

He lifted his head to look down at her, holding her tight while she dug her hands deep into his sides, anchoring herself against him. The cool mask had dropped, leaving behind lust, want, emotion, intense need. She knew her face reflected all of the same things. They were vulnerable to each other.

His lips crashed over hers and he reached between them. He dug his fingers into her lace panties, wrapping them around the soaked crotch and pulling hard. Vee gasped into his mouth as the fabric tore, marking her flesh as thread parted from the force he was exerting. Her hips stung, the tiny bite of pain only heightening her desire. She was now bare to him, vulnerable to the hand he thrust between her legs.

She was dripping for him, for this inevitable moment. Their months-long dance was going to culminate in this explosive encounter. Every move, every death, every fight, it all led to this, their wedding night.

Vee became aware of the gun in her hand, the metal heated by her tight grip. She raised it slightly, pulling it from beneath his shirt. Between kisses she glanced down at it. She could end everything now. She could kill him, kill his bodyguards, she could try to take back Miami. She could become Queen again. Find a way to rescue Raina.

“Do it,” he snarled against her neck, reading her mind.

“What?” she gasped, and then yelled as his fingers finally found her. Finally touched her aching centre, the part of her that begged him, needed him, wept for him. She could barely think as he slid a finger into her snug passage, burying it deep.

“Pull the fucking trigger, Vee,” he snarled. “It’s the only way we end this marriage.”

She barely had a chance to blink, to breathe, and he was removing his finger, unzipping himself and plunging inside her. She grabbed hold of him, crying out at the suddenness of his invasion. There was no finesse, no warning. One moment he was touching her and the next he was fucking her, his thick, hot cock, driving into her body.

“Oh god!” she yelled as her body fought to accept his length. It had been years since she’d done this, years since she’d been penetrated. She wasn’t expecting the pressure, the almost painful, but definitely blissful feeling of being filled.

Instead of allowing her time to adjust he gripped her hips and yanked her off the counter, forcing her further onto his cock. Pain and pleasure slammed through her, leaving her dizzy and breathless. She gripped his shoulders and wrapped her legs around him. He held her tight against his body, his arms around her back and waist, his face buried between her neck and shoulder.

“Heaven,” he mumbled against her.

Then he dropped them to the floor, so suddenly, that Vee shrieked and clung even tighter. He lowered her gently the rest of the way, one hand cupping the back of her head before laying her on the floor. He was taking more control thrusting deeper into her. His big body dominated hers, pinning her to the floor in the small space, not allowing her any room for movement. She had a bare second to prepare before he was slamming his hips against hers, knocking her back into the floor.

His powerful thrusts, with his frenzied passion, called to her, released her need for control. She lifted her hips accepting every thrust, feeling the intense build of sensations. She screamed as she came, throwing her arms wide and smashing the gun into the side of the bathtub. She was glad that it didn’t go off. A bullet hitting marble would ricochet.

Her orgasm continued to flow through her and she flew higher as he continued to pump into her, gripping her hips in a bruising hold so he could penetrate deeper and deeper. She could feel her wetness spilling, trickling from her as he hit every good thing within her pussy, lighting her up, igniting the blood flowing fast and hard through her veins.

His movements grew uneven, his cock becoming bigger within her. She knew he was close to coming. She reached up, wrapping her arms and legs around him, wanting to be as close as physically possible to the man that had dug something out of her she hadn’t thought possible. Perhaps he sensed her need for closeness. He pulled her up against his chest and held her tight, his heart pounding against her ear where he pressed her head against his body.

He grunted her name as he came, his lips against the top of her head. She felt the rush of his seed as it spilled into her body. Intense emotion swamped her and she couldn’t hold back the tear that slipped from her closed eyelids.

He didn’t release her, as she thought he might when he was finished. Instead, he continued to hold her close, his cock still buried within her, connecting them. Her breath was ragged against his chest, her lips pressed against the skin over his heart.

“Vee,” he whispered.

29

Vee dropped the gun, cringing a little as it hit the tiled floor. She hadn’t meant to, but her fingers were numb where she’d been holding it so tight. The bang as it hit the floor brought them both out of the moment. Sotza lifted his shoulders and gently set Vee away from him, his penis pulling from her body. She gasped and closed her knees. He picked up the gun, gave it a quick look over before placing it back on the counter.

“Loaded,” he observed blandly.

Vee had to bite her tongue not to laugh out loud. The most inappropriate responses running through her head. Did he mean, loaded like she wanted to be, so she could deal with the awkward aftermath of whatever the hell that encounter was? Or maybe he meant, loaded like his incredible magical cock.

Instead she bit back the grin that threatened and replied, “Of course, my weapons are always ready to fire.”

He studied her for a moment, his lip lifting in a semi-smile, as though he was reading her mind. He glanced around the tight space where they’d managed to consummate their marriage. “My apologies, this is not exactly what I had in mind.”

“Roses and lingerie?” Vee asked, pulling herself up against the side of the tub and trying to cover her naked front with the tatters of her golden gown.

“And non-alcoholic champagne, of course,” he replied, helping her up.

Vee peeked past him, into the bedroom. “I don’t see any of that stuff.”

Sotza nodded gravely and stood, tucking himself back into his pants. This was the most undone she’d seen him. The tails of his shirt were out, his belt was unbuckled, the buttons of his vest were all missing. Yet, he looked incredible. Just as good, if not better, then when he was fully suited and in control. This version of Sotza looked like a pirate, or a conqueror. Like a man that got down and dirty in the trenches and came out on top no matter what.

“I suppose I’ll have to interrogate the staff, find out who messed up on the flowers,” he said thoughtfully.

Vee laughed. “Rumour has it, few survive your brand of interrogation. You won’t have anyone left if you start picking on the staff.”

He pretended to think over her words. “True,” he agreed. “What does the lady of the house think we should do, if not torture?”

Vee opened her mouth, but it took a moment for her to absorb what he said. Lady of the house. She was. She was the lady of several houses, a lot of land, people, an entire organization. The thought was mind-boggling. She’d gone from her small slice of the East coast to standing at the side of a man that ruled an entire country.

“She thinks,” Vee said, her voice a little wispy as she fought her confused emotions, “that we should serve ourselves if we want something. We’re adults. We don’t need servants for every little thing.”

Sotza studied her seriously. He nodded slowly and stood, taking her hand in his and pulling her up against his side. “I knew you would make a wise queen.”

They changed out of their wedding outfits and put on casual clothing. Vee wore an oversized white sleeping shirt that buttoned up the front. She added a pair of shorts for modesty and wandered out to the kitchen while Sotza changed and unpacked their suitcases. She’d noticed that about him. He was always tidy. Didn’t like to leave stuff just lying around, and he didn’t rely on staff to do things for him, despite what their banter implied.

Vee liked to consider herself tidy too, but she suspected her brand of tidy fell more on the side of neurotic. When she’d gone clean, she had started to pour her energies into other things, like controlling every aspect of her environment. Everything had a place and she needed those places to always be the same. It helped her cope, having everything arranged perfectly. Especially when her job had been so chaotic. Being able to go home to a comfortable, well-organized space soothed her.

She opened the fridge door, took stock of their supplies and called down the hall toward the bedroom, “Isaac, do you like eggs? We can make omelets and toast…” Her voice trailed off as she glanced over her shoulder and saw him standing in the doorway.

He was wearing a pair of jeans, zipped but not buttoned, the belt unbuckled and hanging. His feet were bare, his chest was bare, every part of him was naked except the jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear, she could tell from how low the jeans sat on his hips, a trail of hair going from his belly right down into the denim and thickening before disappearing from view. He held a T-shirt loosely by his side, as though he intended to put it on but was interrupted when she called him. His tousled hair and the shadow of whiskers across his chin added countless points toward his overall appeal at that moment.

“I like eggs,” he said steadily, his gaze devouring her as she stared in open-mouthed awe at his chest, stomach and arms. Though strong, he was a little on the lean side, so she hadn’t expected to find such incredible musculature beneath his suits. Slabs of hard muscles corded his entire torso, rippling beneath his tanned skin as he moved. Instead of putting his shirt on, he dropped it and moved toward her, his steps smooth and slow, but relentless. Even if she wanted to run, there was nowhere for her to go. She was trapped between a fridge and a counter.

Every step he took sent arrows of heat rushing through her body, from her peaked nipples right down to her pussy. She didn’t have to check to know she wet and waiting for him. The melting warmth flooding through her system and pooling low in her belly told her that she was slick with need. He stopped in front of her and reached past her. Vee held her breath, expecting him to grab her the way he had earlier, in the washroom. Instead, he closed the fridge door. He remained where he was though, leaning into her, his breath rushing past her ear, stirring her hair.

“I want to taste you,” he said, his voice deep and seductive. His beautiful accent washed over her like warm honey. Even when he was working and said the most horrific things, she could still listen to him all day long and never get tired of that voice.

She nearly moaned out loud as blatant images flashed through her brain. He dropped his hands down her body, lifted her nightshirt a little and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her shorts. Her breaths became uneven as her mind flew. Was he going to…? He slid her shorts and panties down her legs in one long, seductive movement, his knuckles caressing her skin. When he reached the floor, he took the back of her ankle in a gentle grip and lifted her foot, the way he’d done on the beach when he took her shoes off.

When her shorts were off he stood again. Looking down at her, dark eyes smoldering with lust. Her heart thumped in anticipation. He wanted to have sex again? So soon? He took her by the waist and lifted her off her feet. Vee gasped and gripped his shoulders, the bare skin warm and hard beneath her fingertips, the muscles moving as he stepped back toward the counter and set her on top of it. He burrowed close to her, pulling her hips to the edge of the counter and pressing his denim covered cock into her uncovered pussy. The zipper scraped against her bare, sensitive folds. She gasped loudly and rocked her hips against him.

She was surprised by the sharp rise in passion as warmth sizzled through her from top to bottom. It was like, after that first taste of heaven, she was so much more aware of him. Her nipples hardened beneath the thin fabric of the shirt. He leaned in to kiss her. She thought he would kiss her mouth, but he didn’t. He lowered his head to the curve of her neck and explored it with his lips, dipping into each nook and licking her skin, sending even more heat through her body. His mouth should be outlawed, the things it did to her.

He pushed her until her back hit the upper cabinets, then wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her hips almost over the edge, balancing her ass on the counter while he held her up. He maneuvered her with such casual ease, such strength, that it made her head spin. A tiny part of her feared this kind of strength, the things he could do to her if he was ever really angry. She’d seen him angry before, but it was always carefully controlled. She wondered what wild out-of-control anger would look like. In her experience, all men were capable of it, they just needed to be pushed. But for now, she wanted to enjoy the way his lips moved across her skin, the way his hands gripped her possessively.

He gripped her thigh, wrapping his long fingers around her. He pushed her leg, opening her up, but apparently not enough for his satisfaction, as he moved his hand down to her knee, gripped it and lifted. He guided her foot up onto the counter, then trailed his hand over her leg, pausing to tickle the super sensitive skin of her inner thigh, before moving to her dripping center. She was so wet for him, she might have been embarrassed at the wet spot she’d created on his jeans except she knew he wouldn’t care. And in that moment, she couldn’t seem to wrap her brain around anything other than the spikes of pleasure he was forcing from her body.

“Hands over your head,” he mumbled against her collar bone as he sank long, thick fingers into her pussy. She was panting so hard that she didn’t register his voice at first. He reminded her, “Vee, hands over your head. Now, cariño. And leave them up there.”

Vee raised her arms without question, pressing the backs of her hands against the cool hard wood of the cabinets. His nimble fingers moved down her front, sliding the buttons through the holes, until her shirt was wide open and her breasts exposed. She barely knew where she was by the time he lowered his head to take a peaked nipple into his mouth, sucking it deep into the hot recess. She moaned and dropped her hands to his head. He took her wrist and pushed her arm back up. She put the other one up herself.

Between the attention he was paying her breasts and the fingers exploring her pussy, her mind was splintered. She couldn’t concentrate on any one thing. Just laid back against the counter, her arms over her head, enjoying the exquisite attention. She knew where he was headed with this hedonistic exploration, but still she held her breath as he trailed his way down her stomach, lowering himself until he was kneeling on the floor.

“Ahhh,” she moaned loudly as his tongue touched her for the first time. It was explosive, it was heaven. She nearly came without any further stimulation. He spread her wide with those long, wicked fingers and licked her, sucked her, ate her the way she’d always wanted. Seconds later, he entered her with his fingers, filling her, while still torturously teasing her with his tongue. It was like he knew her body, better than she did. He tuned it like an instrument and played like an angel.

Moments later her legs started shaking and she felt the orgasm begin to rise, rushing through her, heating her limbs, her face, her everything. She bent her arms and gripped her elbows in an effort to keep her arms raised the way he wanted. She didn’t dare disobey or he might take this precious treat away. She rocked her ass dangerously close to the edge. She didn’t care if she fell off or if she landed on him. It was going to be so worth it, just to experience this, the best fucking orgasm ever.

His fingers pumped harder, pressing firmly against the walls of her passage, while his tongue flicked and sucked at her clit before running down the inside of her labia. Stars sparked behind her eyelids. She tossed her head back, pressing her face into her forearms as she held on for as long as she could, knowing that the higher she flew the harder and better she would fall.

“Come for me, Vee!” he demanded from between her legs.

It took a moment for his words to sink in, barely recognizable his voice was so guttural. But as soon as she recognized the command, her body obeyed, exploding with such force that it felt as though her mind shattered, a lightning bolt of pure pleasure ripping through her. She felt fluid spurt from her as he continued to pump his fingers. Again, she didn’t care, she was too caught up in the intense pleasure shooting through her.

She floated down to realize his fingers were still working her and his tongue was still pressing against her clit. Only this time harder, more insistent. She shrieked as another orgasm took hold, this one even more catastrophic than the last. She reached down to shove his head away, to stop the unknown from happening. It was too much, too many feelings, too much pleasure!

He took her scrambling hands in a tight grip and held them against her stomach, forcing her to take the pleasure. Every lick, every sip, every bite. It was perfect, it was terrible, it was everything she could have hoped for but didn’t know existed. Her entire body shuddered in anticipation and she shook her head back and forth, helpless against the barrage of sensations hitting her. Just as the orgasm crested she threw her head back, banging it into the cupboard.

“Isaac!” she screamed, her nails digging into the hand that held her immobile.

She soared, higher than before, felt her lungs burning from lack of breath. But she didn’t have time to breathe. Her entire focus was between her legs. Then she was falling off the counter. Not by accident either, Sotza was tugging her down, his strong hands gripping her waist and controlling her fall. He cradled her as she dropped into his lap, limp and boneless.

She sat on his lap, facing him, his arm around her back, pressing her against his chest, her head falling forward against his neck. They were both slick with sweat; her from exertion, him from need. He shifted her, bringing his hand up her back to cradle her neck. He moved her so he could see her. Her eyes were half-closed and she wondered if she could fall asleep just like that when he said, “I’d intended to taste you only, bring you pleasure. But I need you now, mi amor.” His voice was husky and his dark eyes burned like hot coals.

He tipped her back on the floor. She half twisted trying to catch herself, her palms striking the tile with a smack. He took advantage of her position, twisting her hips and legs until she was laying face down on the floor, her knees wide, legs sprawled across his lap. She heard the zip lower on his jeans, then he pushed her legs wider, one on either side of him.

He dragged her hips back toward him. Vee didn’t have the energy to push herself up so she lay that way, with her ass up, knees curled under and arms reaching out in front of her. She didn’t think she was capable of orgasming again. Her mind said no, but as soon as his hard, thick cock plowed through her slick folds, her body said yes. Yes, yes, yes! She yelled, her nails scraping the floor as ecstasy flared back into life, igniting everything she had.

He took the back of her shirt in his fist and bunched it up, using it to force her back onto his cock as he thrust forward, quickly finding a brutal, breath-stealing rhythm. She yelled each time his hips slammed into her ass. Pain and pleasure merged, combining to create something more than just an orgasm. Something darker and intensely more pleasurable.

It didn’t take long before his movements grew choppier and more demanding. His hips smashed hers in a frenzy and he yanked her shirt so hard that if the buttons were done up he’d be strangling her with it. The way in which he lost himself in her body sent her over the top, too fucking hot to resist. He shouted something guttural, unintelligible to her ears, probably Spanish as he emptied his seed into her. She felt the heat of his orgasm rush through her and pushed herself back, taking all of him until he was done pumping into her.

Vee collapsed to the floor with a groan. When he pulled out, she didn’t have the energy to close her legs. His come, her come, would just have to pool on the floor. She wasn’t dealing with it. He crawled over top of her, his knees on either side of her hips, his hands pressing into the floor next to her shoulders, caging her. She felt wonderful, incredible, safe.

He bent to place a kiss between her shoulder blades, trailing his lips across her one shoulder. She shivered in response and moved her face to the side so she could see him hovering over her.

“Isaac…” she whispered.

“Si, mi amor?” he said softly, nipping her earlobe before kissing his way down her cheek toward her lips.

She moaned, both fearing and wanting his kiss. The problem with his kisses is they were like a drug. A drug she had no defense against. She wanted them desperately but wasn’t sure if she could deal with the aftermath of that kind of addiction.

“Do you think we could do this in a bed next time?” she asked, her lips tilting up in a smile. “I’m getting sore from all the floor fucking.”

He laughed out loud, the sound golden to her ears.

30

Vee stood in the ocean, water rushing over her bare feet and ankles. She wore a simple one-piece bathing suit. Rose coloured with a splash of white flowers and green foliage low on one side. She liked it a lot. Just as she liked the sheer white wrap, tied around her waist, that went with it. And every other item of clothing that’d been chosen for her. Almost as if someone knew her tastes. Whoever was picking her clothes went that little extra mile to get Vee the things she never bothered to get herself. Items that were more expensive, more exclusive, better fabrics and nicer cuts.

She also loved Sotza’s island home. It was private, spacious yet also cozy. The sand was fine and soft, the jungle-like foliage lush. The house was close enough to the beach that Vee had been going down a few times per day to swim or just sit in the sand. Sometimes Sotza joined her and sometimes he stayed up at the house. She suspected he worked when they weren’t together, touched base with Mateo and whoever he set up as liaison in Miami. Regardless, he was more relaxed here on the island. He smiled easier, laughed once in awhile. When they ate together, he talked to her the way he had when she’d been locked in the bedroom, in his low quiet voice. Only Vee responded this time, listening to him and sharing her thoughts and opinions. It helped that he seemed to value the things she said, absorbing her words and turning them over in his brain before responding.

They’d been on the island for almost two days, half of their honeymoon over. Vee regretted that they had so little time, but she was eager to get back to Raina. And she knew Sotza needed to get back to the mainland, back to his empire. He’d left it for months to go sort out Miami. Vee suspected he hadn’t meant to be gone so long, but after meeting her, deciding what their future would be, he stayed longer to woo his reluctant bride. She smiled at the thought. They’d virtually burned down Miami’s underworld in their warring courtship. And while she missed her home, was still unsure of this new relationship, she was beginning to feel hopeful.

Maybe she shouldn’t. Maybe she should still be bitter and angry. The world was changing around them, women had more power, more control over their own futures. Shouldn’t she also get a say in what happens to her? Yet, the mafia world didn’t change, not really. Even Vee’s own bid for power, to sit as queen at the top, had lasted just a little over a year. Lasted about as long as it took for men to challenge her and another man to dethrone her.

Except the man who took her crown was the man setting her up again, at the top of a new regime. Ensuring she would maintain power, just in a different capacity. Similar, she supposed, to the way Reyes had set Casey up at his side. Allowing her control within the Bolivian organization, giving her the authority to make decisions. Vee was still sceptical. Never in her life had she experienced an equal sharing. Every one of her relationships had been an exchange of power, with Vee getting the least amount, grabbing what she could and making the best of each situation.

Frank, her first long-term lover, hadn’t treated her too bad. But he’d made it clear that she was a commodity. Something easily ignored until he was ready to take what he wanted. He was generous in some capacities. Jewels, clothing, money, it had all flowed. He was also generous with his friends, occasionally passing Vee around when he needed a favour or wanted to show off. She hadn’t been sad to see him go when Tony took over.

Tony had been different. Exciting at first. Exotically handsome and dangerous. His thirst for power, his reckless devil-may-care attitude, had been attractive. His pursuit had been breathtaking. He wanted her almost as bad as he wanted Frank’s cut of the action. It hadn’t taken Vee long to realize Tony only wanted her because she belonged to someone else. She was a beautiful, unattainable prize that Tony wanted to own. Once he had her, she became part of the scenery. Again. Just a woman, a thing to be shrugged off, pushed aside, taken out and played with when the mood struck.

Vee thought that Sotza was different, that he wouldn’t do to her the things that Frank and Tony and other men had done. He seemed… different. He was definitely harsh and brutal, a product of the mafia world and the horrific things that life asked of him, but he also had a side to him that was not quite as sinister as she originally thought. He was careful, thoughtful in his actions and fair. For the most part. Vee didn’t think she would ever be okay with the things he did in Miami, but she also understood that he’d had a job to do. It was just her poor luck that she happened to be his job.

Vee was a practical soul. And now that she was here, with Sotza, married and about to embark on a new path, she was ready to face the future with optimism. She would stand at his side, for a while anyway, and see how things played out. She would have to find a way to extract Raina from the organization though. Having her daughter involved in anything mafia-related was unacceptable. But once Raina was out of the picture, Vee would consider settling down and finding a way to live with the new man in her life.

She heard footsteps in the sand, the sound of rustling clothing intrusive against the stillness of the ocean backdrop. She knew whoever was approaching wasn’t Sotza. He stepped lightly, carefully. He didn’t want his victims to hear him coming. She tensed and turned to look, relaxing slightly when she saw John, one of the island guards.

“Señora Sotza,” he said as he walked to the edge of the water and stopped. “The Señor has requested your company at the villa. Please come out of the water and accompany me up to the house.”

Vee squinted at him, shading her eyes from the sun. Something was off. In the few days they’d been on the island, Sotza hadn’t once sent his men to find her. Like he’d done at his mansion home, Sotza always took care of Vee himself. If he wanted her, he would come and find her. Not summon her.

She looked John over from head to foot with sharp observation. He was nervous about something, shifting a little from foot to foot, his flinty eyes restlessly scanning the area. In her time on the island she’d found the two guards to be fairly relaxed. Mindful, but part of the scenery. John was acting different, his shoulders tense, his hands held low at his sides. One of his hands was resting a little behind his thigh, as though he was holding something. She sincerely hoped it wasn’t a gun. She knew they carried weapons, but they’d never openly displayed them. Vee’s own gun was up at the house, packed in her suitcase.

Vee gathered the skirt of her wrap in one hand so it wouldn’t tangle in her legs and walked slowly out of the water toward the guard. He relaxed a little as she approached him. She smiled benignly. About a foot away from him she pretended to stumble, reaching out to grab his arm. The one that was holding something. She used him as leverage, grabbing hold of his arms tightly and then bringing her knee up sharp and fast between his legs.

John went down into the sand with a howl. Vee whirled away from him and sprinted toward the treeline. She wanted to head for the house, but feared it wasn’t safe. If she was right and John had been about to attack her then someone else was likely hitting the house, going after Sotza. The thought was gut-wrenching. She wanted to turn back and run to the house, help him if she could. But she knew better. She was next to defenseless. She had no weapon and she was wearing little more than a bathing suit. She didn’t even have shoes. She would only hinder Sotza if he needed to fight. Perhaps even distract him from doing what he needed to do. No, her best bet was to hide in the trees and then circle back toward the house where she could observe it in stealth.

She didn’t make it to the trees. Something hit her hard in the back, stunning her. She collapsed onto the sand face first and lay for a moment, absorbing the pain in her back. She moaned and glanced over her shoulder, John was standing over top of her, holding what looked like a gun. But she was pretty sure it wasn’t, pretty sure she hadn’t been shot. Before she could defend herself he shot her again and she had less than a second to realize he was using a taser on her. She was out before she could scream for help.

She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious. She suspected not long since she had flashes of being carried over John’s shoulder to a vehicle, then driven somewhere. When awareness returned she found herself lying on the dirty floor of a shed. She squinted into the room. There were no lights, but she could tell it was still daytime from the dim, pale light filtering through cracks on the walls. She sat up painfully, shoving hair out of her face. She was certain she was still on the island.

She stood, swaying a little. “I’m going to fucking kill that son-of-a-bitch,” she growled, reaching around to touch the spot on her back where he’d tasered her. The area was tender. She went to the door of the shed and tried it. Of course, it was locked. She threw her weight against it, hoping the wood was frail enough to give way. It didn’t move and all she accomplished was to jar her shoulder.

She pressed her ear against a crack in the wood and listened. She could hear the crashing of waves and birds singing. The shed must be somewhere in the trees, but not far from the beach. She was about to start shouting when she heard a vehicle approach. She glanced frantically around for a weapon, reaching out to feel her way around. Nothing. Teeth and nails would have to do.

When the door swung open, she backed into the far corner and squared her shoulders, facing the threat bravely. She wasn’t going to go down begging for her life. Light flooded the small interior, blinding her for a second. When she blinked she saw a tall, broad male figure standing in the doorway. She thought at first it must be John, come back to finish her. But when she was able to see clearly she discovered someone else entirely, someone she hadn’t given a single thought to since they left Mexico.

“Nico Garza,” she said coolly.

He nodded swiftly and pulled something off his belt. She stiffened thinking it was a weapon, but he brought it up to his face and began speaking in swift, angry Spanish. “Report!” he snapped. “Where is Desi? She should be here by now.”

As he talked on the phone, Vee slid sideways along the wall, thinking to slip past him and run. He reached out, so suddenly, she didn’t have time to duck, and gripped her throat, slamming her into the wall. They stood that way, he towering over her, pinning her against the wall, while she listened to his end of the conversation.

“You fucking find her, Diego,” he snarled. “I want to know where Sotza is too, why he wasn’t up at the house.”

Vee’s head spun with all the possibilities. Sotza wasn’t at the house? That was where she’d left him, sitting on the comfy sofa, his laptop open in front of him, a mere 20 minutes before she’d been attacked. Had he found out about the intruders and gotten out of the house in time? Did he abandon Vee to the Mexicans? As soon as she had the thought she discarded it. No, Sotza wouldn’t do that. He would do whatever it took to get her back and then take out the kidnappers. Knowing that he was loose on the island and not up at the house, injured or dead, was a huge relief. Once Vee extracted herself from Nico she would join her husband.

Nico clipped his phone back on his belt and turned to look at her, his cool gaze slipping over her. She regretted her outfit choice. It wasn’t good for fighting and she felt nearly naked in just a bathing suit and sheer wrap. Though, thankfully, she didn’t feel any lust from him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice steady.

His fingers flexed threateningly around her neck before he dropped his hand away. He remained standing too close though, his big body blocking her from moving.

“I would think it’s obvious.”

He would be there for one of two reasons, to take out Sotza or to take out Vee. Maybe both. She didn’t particularly like either option and wondered why she wasn’t dead yet. Even if he was just after Sotza she should be collateral damage. It would be stupid to leave her alive as a witness and a potential enemy. She decided to play dumb. “You came all the way to Venezuela to lock me in a shed?”

He gave her a withering look. “Let’s not pretend you’re Sotza’s bimbo blond wife. I know exactly who you are, Elvira Montana.”

“Sotza,” she correctly coldly. When he lifted an eyebrow she said, “My name is Elvira Sotza, but you may call me Señora Sotza.” She tried for haughty, so he would understand that she thought him an annoying worm.

He laughed, despite his obvious tension. “We were on a first name basis in Mexico, Vee.” His eyes travelled over her body. “I enjoyed our time together in my home.”

Vee badly wanted to cross her arms over her chest, hide her cleavage from view. But she forced herself to keep her arms loose at her side in case she needed to defend herself. “You weren’t such a prick in Mexico, Mr. Garza,” she said tartly. “I don’t think I want to be so familiar with the man trying to take over my husband’s organization.”

She was fishing. Trying to draw him into divulging his reason for attacking them. He continued to look at her, assessing her. Not critically, like his compatriots had when they kept going after her in Miami, trying to take her down. No, he looked at her with respect, though he tried to hide it under the guise of lust. Though he was top of the food chain himself, dominating a large swath of Mexico, she thought perhaps he liked strong, powerful women. And though his gaze was purposefully heated, she still didn’t get any sense that he actually wanted her. Something was worrying him, getting in the way of his ability to play with her properly.

“What do you want?” she finally demanded. Why beat around the bush? He was clearly on the island for a reason. And she wasn’t dead, so he didn’t have what he needed yet.

He continued to stare at her, his dark eyes cold. “I want what should be rightfully mine.”

“And that is?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“United States, East coast. Miami. I want my cut back. It belonged to me for ten years, then it fell to the Bolivians. I have spent the past year trying to get it back. But the idiotas I sent in kept failing,” he said, his voice dropping a little as he searched her face.

Vee frowned as her mind whirled, trying to unravel what he was saying. “You were in partnership with Ignacio Hernandez?” Hernandez had been Casey’s husband before Reyes went in and cleaned out the organization.

He nodded and moved away from her, leaning against the opposite wall, his arms crossed loosely over his broad chest. “Hernandez and Montana. I was involved in everything crossing borders.” He watched for her reaction. Vee knew better than to give him one. But she was reeling with the information he was giving her.

“I don’t remember ever seeing you at the house,” she said of her time with Tony. “I knew who my late husband was doing business with.”

His lips curled a little. “But I saw you, chica,” he said. “Once only. And you made an impression. You were at your husband’s side, pretending not to hear the conversation as a new drug trail into the US was negotiated. You were very high from the cocaine back then, but still sharp. I was impressed with both your beauty and the thoughts that passed across your face. You thought Montana was an idiot and you thought Juan Domingo was just as stupid. You were correct on both points. I believe if you hadn’t been married I would have stolen you away.”

And then she remembered. She hadn’t met him, but she’d seen him. “Four years ago,” she said, nodding slowly. “We were in Stage’s nightclub. You asked me to dance, but I refused.”

“You did,” he agreed.

“But that was the only time you spoke that whole evening, to ask me for a dance,” she pointed out incredulously. “Domingo did all the talking.”

“He usually did. My cousin was the better businessman. I have a tendency to take what I need by force.” He waved his hand between them. “Although he spent the past year fucking things up in Miami. Alienating our contact. Couldn’t stand the idea of a woman in charge.”

“Me,” she breathed. Things began to click into place. Nico’s reasons for coming to Venezuela, the vastness of his organization. “You pretended to be rivals, but you weren’t. Most of us never met the leader of the Garza organization so you were able to attend meetings as one of his hired guns instead of the boss.”

He was about to reply when his phone beeped. He pulled it off his belt and answered. Vee eyed the door, but she didn’t think she would get far. And she wanted to find out what he had planned. He barked angrily into the phone, making her cringe inwardly. He was speaking so fast she had trouble picking out all the words, but she was fairly certain his second-in-command, Desi, the woman from their evening in Mexico, was missing. Along with another of Nico’s men. And they couldn’t seem to find Sotza either. Which meant Sotza probably had Nico’s missing people. Whatever his plan had been, it was backfiring.

“Find them!” he snarled into the phone before hanging up.

Vee gave him a moment to compose himself before speaking. “I think I understand Miami. You laid low, let your people do the dirty work. Collected the rent, so to speak. Then things started going south when Reyes took out Hernandez and Casey took out the next guy. Everything fell to me. The Hernandez cut and the Montana piece of the pie. I had no idea you even existed so I kept trying to work with Domingo. But nothing I said or did could sway him to do business with a woman. When Domingo failed I turned to other sources and you lost out.”

“Significantly,” he said with a growl. “Do you have any idea how much money access to the East Coast is worth?”

Vee let out a small, humourless laugh. She knew exactly what it’d been worth. What she’d lost by her fight with the Mexicans. If she’d only known that Nicolás Garza was the man at the top, she would have gone straight to him and made the necessary arrangements between their organizations. None of this would have ever happened. Not her battle with the Mexicans, not her tarnished reputation, her loss of Miami. Her meeting with Sotza. Her marriage.

“You should’ve come to me,” she said accusingly. “When you found out what was going on, you should have come to meet with me yourself. Not hid behind your man. We could’ve avoided all this!” She shouldn’t have been so loose with her tongue, needed to remember who she was talking to. A cartel boss. But she was too angry to heed the stiffening in his shoulders and the shadow passing across his face.

“It was too late when I found out what was happening. Sotza had already arrived in Miami.”

“You could have come anyway,” she snapped, recklessly pushing on. “You could have partnered with me, pushed him back, taken what you thought should have been yours to begin with. Instead of hiding in Mexico and leaving me and Domingo to battle it out. Good job there, Nico! Your cousin lost his head while you stood back.”

He flinched. “It would have been suicide! No one goes head to head with The Butcher and survives.” He pushed her back against the wall and shoved a finger in her face. “Domingo was reckless, stupid. Don’t bother to deny it. He had a year to figure his shit out, losing his head was his payment for fucking up.”

“This is suicide!” she shot back. “What do you hope to gain by attacking Sotza in his home? You were better off fighting him on foreign soil.” He shoved a hand through his hair and glared at her. She continued, “You know I’m right. You’ve moved against Sotza. He won’t allow you to walk away. He has Desi and you know it. You better just cut and run, because this is your only chance to disappear. Once he finds us you’re dead.”

“If he so much as touches Desiree I will cut his fucking heart out.”

She saw the rage, his terrible fury over his missing second-in-command. But more importantly she saw his desperation. Desperation made people reckless. Coloured their decisions, fuelled them with emotion rather than the cold logic necessary for planning.

“She’s already dead and you know it,” Vee said coldly.

She was prepared for the hit. Loosened her body, watched his body language. He was right-handed, so when the hit came toward her she moved her head to the side, taking the clip in the ear and collapsing to her left to lessen the impact. But she needed him to think he’d gotten her hard so she dropped to the floor as though knocked unconscious.

He immediately bent over her. “Elvira…” he said, regret leaking into his voice.

She swung her knee up, catching him in the side. He lost balance, falling from his crouch onto his ass. Vee kicked out, aiming for his face. She got him hard on the cheek, knocking him back. The impact would’ve been worse if she’d been wearing shoes, but she had to work with what she had. He grabbed his face and swore. She had to scramble over top of him to reach the door. She was about to lunge out into the open when he grabbed hold of her wrap, tearing it as he dragged her back. She hit the floor hard, landing on her knees.

He was fast, faster than her. She fought, turning to aim a punch at his head. He knocked her arm aside and slapped her hard, knocking her into the wall. She collapsed onto the floor, her ears ringing and her vision fuzzy. He dragged her to the middle of the shed and straddled her. She tried to bring her hands up to defend herself, but he pinned them easily with one hand. She kicked at him, slamming her knees into his back as hard as she could. She curled her fingers and dug her nails into his hand until she felt the flesh tear and the wetness of his blood.

“Stop!” he roared and reached for his belt. He pulled a gun and pressed it against the side of her head. His eyes promised death if she kept fighting. She went limp underneath him.

“Smart chica,” he growled.

Vee fought to bring her breathing back under control, not an easy thing to do with a heavy asshole Mexican on top of her. His phone rang. He didn’t move the gun from her head. Instead he released her wrists and answered. Vee didn’t move, kept her hands above her head so he wouldn’t decide to shoot her.

“Si?” he snapped.

His entire demeanor changed as he listened. His body was rigid on top of her and fear lit his eyes. Deep, terrible fear. And not for himself. For someone else.

“I have your wife here with me. You hurt any of my people and I will – ”

Even Vee heard the woman’s scream that echoed through the phone, cut off by a gunshot. Vee knew her husband well enough to know that he didn’t bluff. If he pulled his weapon, shot it, then he had just killed someone.

31

Shock radiated through Nico’s body knocking him back on his haunches. Vee still lay underneath him, but she was able to push herself up enough to watch him. Horror etched his features. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed hard. When he opened them, Vee saw rage unlike anything she’d ever seen before. Nico put the phone on speaker and said in a surprisingly smooth voice that hinted at none of his anger, “You killed something that belongs to me, now you will hear your wife die.”

Vee scrambled backwards, clawing the floor until her back hit the opposite wall. Nico got to his feet and followed her, his gun trained on her head. She wanted to say something, to try reasoning with him, but she knew it was pointless. He was past the point of reason. He moved the safety back and began pulling the trigger. Vee kept her eyes open, watched as death sped toward her.

“You would risk your woman’s life like that?” Sotza said, his voice as dispassionate as Vee had ever heard it. He was not the loving husband she’d spent two days getting to know. He was the boss now. The Butcher at work.

Nico’s finger eased back, though he kept the gun on Vee. “Desi is alive?” he demanded.

“For now,” Sotza replied coolly.

“You will give her back… and any of my other people that you have?” Nico asked, no hint of the desperation that Vee could see in every line of his body.

“Once Vee is released into my care we will talk.”

“Not good enough,” Nico snarled. “You could kill them.”

“There is only your woman left. The others are dead,” Sotza said, his voice so disembodied, so cold, that Vee shivered, even though she knew they were on the same side.

“You killed four men?” Nico said incredulously.

“Five,” Sotza corrected. “John would make six, but I’m saving him for later.”

Vee could tell from Nico’s complexion that he was now alone. There were no people left to help him fight. Sotza had hunted them and cut them down. All except the bodyguard that had turned on them. He would find his justice later.

“Alright,” Nico growled, clearly frustrated at the loss of his people and the downfall of his grand plans. “You will release Desiree, give her back to me and we will leave you in peace.”

A shot echoed through the phone and the woman began screaming, agony ripping through her voice. Vee didn’t move, but Nico flinched, dropping to his knees. He couldn’t speak until Desi was able to bring herself back under control, her screams dying away.

“I have now shattered her trigger hand,” Sotza said calmly. “A shame, I truly don’t enjoy hurting women. But she is vicious this one, went after me with my own kitchen knife. She is lucky I didn’t cut her fingers off.”

Nico went white at hearing his woman was now shot and bleeding somewhere on the island. Vee looked at Nico, catching his eye. She kept her face carefully controlled, though she was terrified. She knew Sotza was making the right moves, showing this man that he was willing to do whatever was necessary. But Sotza was pushing a very dangerous man toward a reckless edge. An edge that Vee stood on with him.

“He isn’t bluffing you,” Vee said carefully. “He will not negotiate. You’re only option if you want to save your love is to release me.” Vee purposely called the other woman his love, telling Sotza how much Desi meant to Nico. How far he would go to get her back. Vee suspected that Nico was seriously regretting his decision to put Desi in the path of the Venezuelan cartel boss.

Nico seemed to struggle between desperation and rage. He was having trouble controlling himself. “How do I know he’ll let her go?” he asked, his voice rough. “He could take you back, my only leverage, and then kill her.”

“He could,” Vee acknowledged. “But he doesn’t lie. If you ask him for an exchange, then he’ll do it. He’ll give her back, relatively unhurt.” Vee thought back to the severed heads that Sotza had sent her and shuddered. She really hoped that she was telling the truth. But so far, in her experience, Sotza had never done anything other than what he said he would do. He had told her he was taking over Miami, toppling her regime, and he had done it. He’d also told her they would marry, now she was his bride.

“Sotza,” Nico growled. “If I give you my word that you will get your wife back, then you will give me Desi? And you will let us leave the island alive?”

There was a pause and then Sotza said, “Agreed.”

Vee slumped back against the wall as Nico made the arrangements. Right before Sotza could hang up though, Nico looked at her, his dark eyes piercing and grave. He lifted his gun and shot her.

Vee screamed, unable to hold it in as burning pain sliced through her arm. She grabbed the wound with her other hand and doubled over as the pain slashed through her. It was like being lit on fire, like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Tears flowed down her cheeks.

“Vee!” Sotza snarled, finally losing his cool. “Answer me, right now. Tell me you’re alive.”

“I’m here,” she yelled through her tears. “He shot my a – ”

“Touch Desi one more time,” Nico interrupted, “and the next bullet goes through her skull.”

“You have five minutes to bring my wife to the house,” Sotza snapped and hung up.

He was still at the house, Vee thought as dizziness swept through her. Nico crouched in front of her, took her wrap where it was already torn and ripped a strip off. He shoved Vee’s hand away from her bleeding arm and wrapped the strip of fabric around the wound. He yanked the makeshift bandage tight and tied it off. She gasped as pain radiated through her arm and torso.

“My apologies, Señora. It must be tight enough to stop the bleeding. I was careful to hit the flesh part only. I missed artery and bone.”

“Thank you,” Vee said sarcastically, glaring at him through the wetness in her eyes.

He gripped her other arm and pulled her to her feet. “You will heal,” he snapped and dragged her toward the door. “Unlike Desi. She will never fully recover from a bullet to the hand.”

Vee cried out as he shoved her roughly into the jeep. The one that belonged to John. As he got into the driver’s side, she said, “Desi wouldn’t be in this position, she wouldn’t be hurt, if you hadn’t made the stupid decision to come here.”

He slammed his fist into the dashboard and then pointed his finger at Vee. “If the fucking Butcher had never gone to Miami, none of this would be happening.”

Vee took a breath as he put the jeep in gear and slammed on the gas, jolting them forward. She reached out to steady herself. “If it wasn’t Sotza, it would’ve been someone else. No, Nico, coming here, to Venezuela, was a bad idea.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he said, his voice dropping, some of the anger fading. “You were supposed to be vulnerable, both of you. I was going to take you, force him to give back my US routes and then release you as a sign of good faith. I shouldn’t have sent Desi to the house as my plan B in case he wouldn’t negotiate for you. That was my mistake. I underestimated him.”

“I don’t understand,” Vee said, confused. “What did you negotiate when we were in Mexico? I thought you two were in talks for those routes.”

He shook his head. “We negotiated nothing. Sotza told me I was to withdraw completely, to never step foot in the States again, or he would do his thing, cut off my body parts.”

She stared at him incredulously. “But why?”

“He’s an arms dealer, chica. The man hates drugs, always has.”

Vee sat back in her seat, staring out the window, her good hand pressing against the wound while bracing herself on the dashboard with her injured arm as they bounced across the jungle road. Sotza hated drugs. Something triggered in her brain, a memory perhaps. She thought maybe she’d always known that The Butcher didn’t tolerate drugs. But when the man himself showed up in her city, started a war, she’d been too busy fending him off to do her research. If she’d known about his plans, to dismantle instead of takeover a good portion of the organization she’d inherited, she might have asked more questions. Like, where was Reyes? Did he know of Sotza’s plans? Did he approve? She didn’t quite understand the relationship there. Both Reyes and Sotza were their own men. Neither worked for the other. Yet, the way she understood it, Sotza had been doing Reyes a favour by cleaning up Miami. Did Sotza have an ulterior motive for going into the US?

When they arrived at the house Nico didn’t hesitate. He pulled Vee from the jeep and strode toward the frosted glass front door. She had a vision of him shooting out the door and walking them across the broken glass. He did neither. He banged on the door with the heel of his gun. A few seconds later the door swung open. Sotza stood in the entryway, tall, strong and coldly angry. Vee had seen him angry before, but that look, especially when his eyes raked Vee from head to foot, his gaze settling on her arm, it was something else. It was feral, it was vicious. It was a death promise. Vee had always been taught that emotions made a person weak, especially expressing them to the enemy. But in this case, as she and Nico faced Sotza, she decided she was wrong. Sotza took anger to a new level. As though he promised death. Could and would deliver death. No matter what happened today with the exchange.

Sotza motioned behind him, into the kitchen. Nico dropped Vee’s arm and pushed past Sotza into the other room. Vee was a little surprised he would turn his back on such a cold-hearted predator, but she supposed he’d believed her when she told him Sotza wouldn’t lie. His need to get to Desi outweighed any fear he had for his own safety.

Vee straightened, walked to Sotza and stood at his side. He acknowledged her coolly, nodding at her, his sharp gaze on Nico as he bent over Desi, checked her over and then scooped her off the chair she’d been sitting in. She was far more worse for wear than Vee. She’d clearly gotten knocked around in her fight with Sotza. One side of her face was puffy, the eye nearly swollen shut and a trickle of blood made its way from her hairline down to her jaw. Her hand had been wrapped up with a kitchen towel and was now resting limply in her lap as she was pulled into Nico’s chest.

Nico ignored them completely as he strode past Sotza and Vee toward the door, his head bent over his woman. Sotza’s voice made him pause. “You will make it safely off this island Garza, but you won’t get far. There is no place you can hide that I will not find you.”

Nico stared back, clearly seething, wanting to respond in kind with his own threats. But his eyes strayed to Desi, the damage done by his decision to attack Sotza. “This is between you and me, Sotza. She has nothing more to do with this anymore.”

“You attacked my wife,” Sotza replied, ice dripping from his words. He stepped in front of Vee, shielding her with his body, showing the other man that she was now protected. “You laid hands on her, you shot her. There will be no pardon… for either of you.”

32

The moment the door closed behind Nico and Desi, Vee collapsed, her legs folding beneath her. Sotza caught her before she hit the floor. He lifted her in his arms and carried her into the kitchen, placing her on the counter. When she tried to sit up he pushed her back down.

“Looks like you’ve lost a fair amount of blood,” he grunted examining her bandage. “I’m going to have to clean it, stitch and rewrap it. Then we need to get the fuck off this island, we have no protection. I’m certain Juan is dead. John probably killed him before taking you.” His accent was stronger than usual. From the stress of Nico’s attack and her injury, she guessed.

“Poor Juan… that sounds horrible,” Vee said faintly, referring to the stitches and rewrapping part of his statement. “Wait, how did you know it was John that grabbed me?”

“He admitted it.”

Vee could only imagine what Sotza did to the other man to induce a confession. “Still alive?” she asked as Sotza moved around the kitchen gathering what he needed to fix her arm.

“Of course,” he said coldly. “He betrayed me, betrayed my wife. He doesn’t get to die easily.”

His deep brown eyes lifted to hers, hard and uncompromising. She looked back at him steadily. “I want to be there when you teach him the price of betrayal,” she said.

“Of course.”He leaned over and kissed her lips gently. “I’ll be right back. I need some things from the other room.” She nodded while he pulled his gun from its holster and set it on the counter, next to her good hand. Smart move. Nico could come back, though she doubted he would.

He was back within seconds, holding a needle, some thread and a bottle of peroxide. He set everything on the counter and began rolling up his sleeves, his dark eyes on her face. Though his expression remained impassive she saw the concern in those velvety depths. He approached her, ran his fingers lightly down her injured arm. Then he lifted the arm, one hand on her wrist, the other on the elbow. He made her bend it and lay it across her stomach so he would have easy access to the wound.

“Do you want a drink, cariño?” he asked in a low voice. “It’s the only pain killer we have that will work quickly.”

She shook her head, eyes glued to his face. “I don’t drink.”

His face softened a little as he moved away to roll up his sleeves and wash his hands. “You are having a very bad day. I think you can be forgiven a shot of something to ease the pain.”

She held his gaze. “I don’t drink, Isaac. Ever.”

“Si, I hear you, cariño,” he agreed. “Then never again shall I offer.”

“Gracias,” she said, giving him a faint smile.

He pulled one of the tall kitchen stools up next to her. He gave her a pointed look, as though to say, This will hurt. I don’t want to do it, but we don’t have a choice. Then he bent over her. His head low, near her face. She respected him more for not actually uttering the words.

She took deep breaths as he cleansed the area, his movements quick and precise and he ran the cloth through the jagged flesh. She closed her eyes as pain hit her, followed close by dizziness. She breathed in his scent, concentrating on trying to identify the elements and why she liked them so much. He always smelled good to her and today was no different. He smelled like sweat, probably the exertion of hunting Nico’s men. He also smelled spicy, like cigar smoke and woods. He must’ve had a quick smoke after she wandered down to the beach. He didn’t like smoking around her. There was also just a hint of a cinnamon from the candies he liked to suck on while he was working.

“You smell good,” she whispered, opening her eyes. His head was so close to her face that she could see the grey scattered through the dark strands of his hair. The subtle sign of age only made him that much hotter.

“You smell good too, amor,” he said without looking up. “Taste good too.”

Vee blushed as the memory of him going down on her only a few feet away hit her. He’d touched things in her that no one else had bothered to try. Literally and figuratively.

He set the needle against the edge of her wound. She gritted her teeth as he began sewing the flesh together, his movements sure and steady. The breath whooshed out of her in a long hiss. She slapped the palm of her other hand against the opposite side of the counter as pain engulfed her. Tears leaked slowly from her eyelids, now squeezed tightly shut. Sotza didn’t pause, just continued to stab the needle through her flesh, pulling it back together, working fast and efficient.

“Talk to me, Vee,” he finally said, his voice cool but strained.

“Wh-what do you want me to say?” she gasped out.

He paused for a second, thinking. “Tell me about your daughter. Did you always keep track of her?”

“Always,” Vee replied immediately. She pressed her hand over her eyes to block out the lights flashing in her vision and talked to him. “From the moment she left my womb, I tracked her every move. W-wanted to make sure she had the life I’d envisioned for her. A happy, healthy family… a normal childhood. All the opportunities she deserved.”

“You didn’t give her money,” he noted, a hint of curiosity in his voice, but no censor. “You could’ve paid her way through University, but you chose not to.”

“She needed to learn some things herself,” Vee replied. “Stand on her own two feet and all that. She did an excellent job of financing her own education without my help or the help of her adopted parents. If she’d struggled I would have stepped in.”

“You parented her from afar,” he said with admiration.

“I suppose you could call it that. I did the best that I could without being directly involved.” Vee knew he wanted to keep her talking, keep her focused on something other than his movements. She sighed in relief when she felt the brush of his knuckles against her arm as he tied off the last stitch and leaned back.

“You gave that child everything you could,” he noted quietly. “Including a part of yourself. You are the definition of sacrifice, my dear.”

Vee tipped her head to the side, which took real effort given the exhaustion swamping her, and looked at him. “You know about the kidney?”

He didn’t smile exactly, but the corners of his eyes and mouth crinkled. “I know everything there is to know about you, Elvira. Which means I know everything about your daughter.”

She gazed up at him, trying to summon anger at the way he’d interfered in her life, jacked her daughter’s life too. But she couldn’t. He was mafia, right to the marrow of his bones. He would always go his own path, ensure his success no matter how he got there. Vee understood, because she’d lived in that world her entire life. She was mafia too. The only difference between them was that she’d nurtured a person along the way, even if it was from afar. It gave her a different perspective on life. Softened her. In a way, Raina had saved Vee’s life over and over again. Because as long as that child survived, Vee would do everything in her power to survive herself, to ensure the girl’s future.

“Almost done,” he announced. “Except this.” He poured the disinfectant on her wound. Vee yelped and tried to roll away from him. He slapped a hand down on her belly and forcibly held her still holding her injured arm with his other hand so she wouldn’t tear the stitches.

“You could have warned me!” she gasped angrily, settling back on the counter. She pushed a hand up into her hair, gripping the strands as the pain faded.

“Lo siento,” he mumbled leaning over her.

“You aren’t sorry you sadistic asshole,” she growled.

He chuckled. “I just need to wrap it now, cariño. We’re almost there.” The warmth in his voice flowed over her like honey. Now that the pain was fading her skin felt hypersensitive to his every touch. The intimacy of the situation was getting to her.

“Just get it done.”

“Si,” he said and began wrapping the wound. “Is there anything you wish to know about me?”

Vee was about to demand he knock it off with all the chatter when something surfaced. Something she’d been wondering but hadn’t found an opportunity to ask him. “Sure,” she said in a clipped voice. “How old are you? And while we’re on the topic of your age, why haven’t you ever married before? Seems odd, someone in your position should want a succession plan.”

She couldn’t see his face, but she suspected he was amused by her questions. “I’m forty-seven, ten years older than you,” he said easily. “And I never married…” he lifted his head, dark eyes pinning her where she lay, “… because I hadn’t yet met you.”

“Romantic,” she grunted sarcastically and then yelped as he tightened her bandage and stood.

He looked down at her, his expression becoming serious. “I’m a practical man, Vee. I didn’t want a woman that would merely warm my bed, grace my arm and my table, would stand behind me, ignorant of the world we live in. I wanted a woman that knew her mind. A woman with vision and the intelligence to match. I wanted you, Elvira. I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.”

She stared at him, the breath catching in her throat. Then she reached up with her good hand and captured him around the neck, pulling him down until his face hovered over hers. He let her have her moment. “Don’t call me Elvira,” she whispered, but there was no heat to her tone. Inside she was melting at his words. The man was nearly impossible to resist. “Kiss me, Isaac.”

He did. Leaning down to give her one of his perfect kisses. Moulding his lips to hers, exploring her lips with his. The kiss was chaste, yet passionate. It held a wealth of feeling without being a precursor to more. Sotza would never allow it. Not while she was freshly hurt. She was beginning to understand that about him. His code of ethics. He would always protect Vee. From him, from herself, from everyone.

He leaned back, still staring down at her, his dark eyes nearly black. He touched her bandage with the lightest of caresses. “I am sorry I wasn’t there for you. More sorry than you can know that I wasn’t there to stop this from happening.”

She shook her head, trying to banish the tone of self-castigation from his tone. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have known!” he growled. “It was my responsibility to keep you safe, to ensure that my men are loyal. I failed you, Vee.”

“No, you didn’t,” she said, lifting her hand to touch his cheek. Her fingers were still bloody from when she’d clutched her wound, but it didn’t matter. Sotza had her blood smeared all over the front of his shirt. Proof that he’d been rattled while caring for her, despite his seeming calm. The Gentleman Butcher never spilled blood on himself. “We don’t know why John turned, why he gave us up to the Mexicans. You have always had impeccable instincts. Don’t doubt yourself now… we can’t afford it.”

He took her hand in his, which was also bloody, and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingers. “You will never again be harmed under my watch, Vee. This is a promise.”

She smiled up at him. “And I promise to defend you as well.” She held his gaze allowing the moment to flow between them, before adding, “Unless I’m the one attacking you. Then you’re on your own, esposo.”

He laughed. A spontaneous laugh that made her heart stutter. He helped her sit up, one hand around her back while the other still held hers. Dizziness rushed through her again and he placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her still. “Give yourself a minute to recover. You lost more blood than I am comfortable with.”

“There’s an amount that you would be comfortable with?” she said cheekily. Vee dipped her head and looked down at the bandage. “You did a good job,” she observed. Then she felt the need to point out, “Though we both know this wound could be a lot worse. You shattered Desi’s hand.”

His eyes became flint and his features hardened into the mask she was becoming used to. “I slowed her down. She is a formidable enemy. Now she will need time to recover, learn to use her other hand with equal efficiency.”

Vee stiffened at the casual cruelty in his words. She supposed she should thank the gods that he’d decided he wanted her, that they would be on the same side. Otherwise she might be the one with a useless hand… or worse. She was about to reply when a shout came from the front entrance. Vee twisted around to look over her shoulder while reaching for the gun. Sotza scooped it up before she could lay a finger on the weapon and then wrapped an arm around her waist, yanking her off the counter. He shoved her to the floor and crouched beside her. She was about to snap at him for leaving her weaponless when he reached down and pulled a gun from his ankle holster. Flipping the safety off he handed it to her.

Vee took the gun from him, stared at it for a moment and then looked over at him. “I think I love you,” she said.

Heat flooded her face. She hadn’t meant to say that! But everything about their time in the kitchen had prompted her to utter the words. He’d taken care of her, asked about Raina, apologized for not protecting her, and then given her a weapon to protect herself. It pulled something from deep within her.

He flashed a quick grin, pinched her chin between his thumb and finger and dropped a quick hard kiss on her lips. “I have loved you from the moment I set eyes on you, Vee. Every minute since has confirmed and deepened my feelings.” Her mouth fell open and she stared at him incredulously as he shouted, “If you aren’t Mateo, then whomever you are, you better pray.”

33

It was Mateo that came through the door, followed by ten of Sotza’s men. Vee was shocked at how fast Sotza’s second responded to their situation. It had been maybe two hours since the attack had begun, though it felt like much longer. As his men covered entrances and prepared for the couple to leave the island, he explained that when neither John or Juan made their regular hourly contact with the mainland he mobilized immediately. They were in the air and headed over probably minutes after the island was hit.

Sotza seemed to take Mateo’s preparations for granted, simply nodding his head while listening. Vee was both impressed and grateful. She hugged Mateo and thanked him for showing up. It was a few minutes too late to save her from being shot, but she was still grateful. She had been nervous about leaving the house, just her and Sotza. They would’ve been vulnerable with Vee being injured and Sotza alone to handle any threat that came their way.

As they sped toward the mainland in two boats, Vee felt much better about their situation. She was able to relax, to succumb to the haze of pain that radiated from her arm into her shoulder and across her chest. Now that she was safe the pain didn’t bother her that much. It wasn’t any worse than some of the things she’d experienced in the past, and she knew she would survive the scratch to her upper arm. She would walk away with a cool scar as a trophy. She breathed in the fresh salty air, letting it centre her.

“I suppose you won’t take pain meds?” Sotza murmured from behind her. He was sitting with his back against the bench while she was laying half on top of him with her back against his chest. His arms were wrapped tightly around her.

“No,” she agreed, glancing up at him. “I won’t.”

“You would if I insisted,” he said, frowning down at her, considering. “There is such thing as taking your anti-mind-altering-drug crusade too far. If I have to step in, I will.”

“You won’t,” she said confidently. “You trust my judgement. If I couldn’t cope, I would say something.”

“Hmm, indeed, I do trust your judgment in most things. But not necessarily with your own health. Do not forget, cariño, I have seen you do some pretty reckless things. On more than one occasion you put the health and safety of others before yourself. That’s not something I will allow you to do under my care.”

She frowned, disliking the direction the conversation was going in, but settled back against him, refusing to engage further. She suspected that they would eventually clash over his dominant attitude. Probably sooner rather than later. She was a strong woman and, though sometimes stressful, she’d thoroughly enjoyed the past year of independence. She hadn’t needed or wanted a man in her life. Although, now that she was married to Sotza, she was discovering a few perks.

She shifted in his lap as her body reacted to his closeness, his scent, melting a little inside. She curled up on her side, toward him, her forehead pressed against his flat belly. His arm curved over her back, holding her in place and providing comfort. Her eyes closed as she allowed herself to succumb to the exhaustion that was slowly creeping through her. The warmth of the sun seeped into her back and legs, cradling her in comfort as she drifted into sleep.

She woke up with a start as she was lifted in the air. She lurched against Sotza’s chest and gripped his arms. “Go back to sleep, mi amor,” he said against the top of her head, careful not to jar her arm as he stepped from the boat. “We’re a few hours from being home. Relax and let me take care of you.”

“Okay,” she said with a yawn and, for the first time in her life, went back to sleep feeling safe in the knowledge that she wouldn’t be hurt. Sotza would keep her safe.

She managed to sleep through the entire car ride back to Caracas and the transfer to the private plane. When she woke they were flying low over the mountainous jungle region that held Sotza’s empire nestled within. She looked blearily at her new husband, checking to make sure he was next to her. She shouldn’t have doubted it. He was watching her, his gaze a mixture of concern and possession. She glanced away, a little unnerved.

When they landed, Vee had barely disembarked when a small, blond tornado came rushing toward them. Vee watched in amusement and awe as Raina lit into Mateo.

“What the fuck was that!?” she yelled at him, poking him in the chest as she spoke. “One minute you’re harassing me in the garden and the next you light out like your pants are on fire, taking half the security in this place with you. If you’re going to act like the fucking country is exploding you need to tell me what’s happening so I don’t pace this mausoleum sick with worry!”

“Whoa, chica!” Mateo said throwing his hands up in surprise. There was a smug look about him though, like he was pleased with Raina’s dramatic reaction to his withdrawal from the estate.

Raina glanced around, caught sight of Vee and flung herself toward her mother. “Mom!” she cried.

Sotza intercepted her before she could touch Vee. “No, child. She’s been injured. You need to calm yourself.”

Rather than calming down her eyes grew round and filled with tears. “What happened?” she demanded.

“She was shot when we were attacked,” he explained.

Vee sighed and rolled her eyes as Raina’s face turned stark white and she clutched at the arm Sotza held up to bar her from grabbing hold of her mother. Clearly the man did not understand children. His policy of bald truthfulness was going to send someone over the edge. Vee shoved an elbow into his side causing him to grunt and wrapped her good arm around Raina, gathering her close. Raina hugged Vee around the waist, careful not to press too tight.

“You’re okay?” she asked, her voice wobbling.

“Of course,” Vee assured her. They separated and walked toward the vehicles, Raina on one side of Vee and Sotza on the other. Mateo and his men fell in protectively around the family. Raina slipped her hand into Vee’s, holding tight to her mother.

Vee’s heart ached at the attention. They had grown steadily closer in the week moving up to the wedding, but this display of affection was new. Raina’s concern was welcome, but still strange. Vee wasn’t used to having so many people care about her welfare. Of course, Danny had cared, but she’d been his boss. If she fell than so did he. She wondered what’d happened to Danny, if he and his family were okay. She was hesitant to bring Sotza’s attention to her former second-in-command. She didn’t want him to decide to clean up that loose end. Though, in her brief time with him, it’d become clear that Sotza was meticulous when it came to planning and detail. He would not have forgotten about Danny Russo and his connection to Vee. Perhaps in a few days she would broach the subject. See if she might call Danny. For now, she would just navigate the choppy waters of her new marriage.

“I’ll take care of her,” Raina said coolly turning to her new stepfather when they arrived at the house. “She’ll want to change and get right into bed. You can have a tray sent up with her favourite tea and a few snacks.”

Vee raised an eyebrow at Raina’s daring. She must be feeling brave to say such a thing to a man of Sotza’s stature. Sotza merely gazed down at Raina and nodded. His voice was low but warmer than usual as he said, “I’ll see to it. Take very good care of her, por favor.”

Raina helped Vee up the stairs and into the bedroom, careful not to touch her arm once she saw the bandage. As they entered the room, she asked, “Were you really shot?” There was fear and awe in her voice.

“Yes, I was,” Vee replied, reaching for the bed and sitting down carefully. Now that the adrenalin rushing through her system was completely gone she felt the pain of her wound. She wanted nothing more than to do as Raina suggested and take a long nap.

“Did it hurt?” Raina asked curiously.

Vee laughed. “Yes, it hurt. A lot. Can you either call a maid or help me take these clothes off? I really need to lay down and I’d rather not do it in this bathing suit.”

“I’ll do it,” Raina said, reaching for the wrap around Vee’s waist. “So the guys that shot you… Sotza will kill them right? He won’t let something like this pass unchallenged.”

Raina’s voice held curiosity and just a bit of bloodthirsty vengeance. Vee looked at her sharply, confirming her suspicion in the girl’s eyes. She was concerned for her mother, she was angry, she wanted someone to pay. In that moment something in Vee shifted. She’d spent half her life protecting this girl from the mob life. The life that had taken Vee, dirtied her, chewed her up and spit her out. Yet, she felt proud to have a child with such strength. In a short amount of time, Raina was coming to understand the gritty world that Vee lived in. And instead of feeling disgust, she was adapting with ease. Like she belonged.

“No, he won’t let it go,” Vee said sadly. She knew he would have to do something. That his last words to Nico had held a wealth of meaning. He would go after the Mexican boss with the deadly intent that had been directed at Vee in Miami before he decided to let her live. Only this time he had a deep-burning fury that wouldn’t allow him to stop until the entire Garza cartel was decimated. Remembering the way Nico had reacted over Desi’s injury made Vee feel sad that they wouldn’t survive Sotza’s vengeance. “He can’t let it go,” she said tiredly. “A challenge like the one they threw at us can’t be allowed to stand. It’s not how things work, Sotza would look weak.”

Raina nodded, satisfied. “And he isn’t weak, is he?”

“Not even a little.”

Raina carefully maneuvered Vee so that she was standing and then she helped her pull her bathing suit down. Vee stopped her, feeling oddly shy around this grown-up daughter she barely knew. “I can finish,” she said, turning her back and tugging the suit down with her one good hand.

Raina’s gasp made her freeze. She straightened and looked over her shoulder questioningly. Raina was staring at her lower back, a look of dawning realization crossing her face. “Y-your back…” she said faintly, pointing. “Scar…”

Oh shit. Vee had completely forgotten. She so rarely saw her own scar since it was low on her back. But she knew exactly what was upsetting her daughter. Because Raina had a matching scar.

Vee gathered up her robe and wrapped it carefully around her body, not bothering to pull the sleeve over her injured arm. Once covered, she turned around to face Raina. The girl was struggling with her emotions. Everything lighting up her expressive features, from betrayal to understanding, then back to anger, then acceptance. Vee remained silent, giving Raina time to come to terms with this new knowledge, something that would shed light on one of the most painful periods in her life.

Finally, she spoke, her voice low and strained, clogged with tears. “M-my parents told me the donor was anonymous, that she’d died in an accident. I believed them, I believed that they would never lie to me.”

Vee cringed at the accusation in her voice. “They told you what I wanted them to say. What you needed to know.”

“You all lied to me!” she exclaimed. “You lied to a sick child. I was dying, I was miserable… so much pain.”

“I know,” Vee whispered. “And I couldn’t stand back and let that happen if there was any chance I could give you more years.”

“Do you expect me to thank you?” Raina snapped bitterly, swiping at the tears in her eyes.

Vee thought perhaps a thank you for giving up a body part wasn’t too much to ask. But she also understood that Raina was working through a lot. That her anger over the donation of a kidney was about more than just a lie. Vee had been there in the shadows her entire life, watching over her, but never showing herself. And the one thing Raina had always wanted was to know where she came from. The guilt of that wish had eaten at her. She wouldn’t have wanted to hurt her adoptive parents by wanting to know her birth parents, but the burning desire still remained. As shitty as Vee’s own mother had been, she’d still been there during the bad times. And Vee had missed her when she died. Still missed her.

“What would you have done if you’d known about me?” Vee asked, hardening her voice. “If you’d known that I was the one who gave you that kidney?”

“I would’ve found you,” Raina said instantly. “I wouldn’t have stopped looking until I knew where you were and then I would’ve gone to see you.”

“Exactly. And you would have found me in a miserable marriage with a violent and unpredictable man. You would’ve become a pawn in the game that has held me prisoner for thirty-seven years.” Vee paused, letting that sink in before adding, “And that’s why I let go of you when you were born. I wanted more for you. I’ve always wanted more.”

They stared at each other for long seconds. Raina seemed to struggle with herself, then she nodded briefly and said, “Let’s get you into bed. Once you’ve eaten something you can take a nap.” She walked around Vee and flipped the blankets back, inviting her to lay down.

Vee smiled wanly and said, “Yes, boss.”

34

Something soft touched her face, brushing faintly against her cheek. It was warm, comforting. She turned her head on the pillow, burrowing her body a little deeper into the plush covers that welcomed her, beckoning her back into the deep sleep. She frowned as something moved the bed next to her, depressing the mattress. Then his scent, cigars, fresh air and cinnamon, reached out to her, wrapping her in the hazy, sexy comfort.

Sotza was here, with her.

Her frown turned to a smile as he placed his lips against hers, touching just the edge at first before settling more firmly over her mouth and pressing harder. She opened her mouth, breathing him in and allowing him access. He took her bottom lip gently in his teeth, tugging a tiny bit before leaving off to explore further, slipping his tongue first against her teeth and then further, exploring her. Her heart picked up speed, her pulse fluttered in her throat and the blood rushed beneath her skin, warming her.

He released her lips, moving back just a fraction, to say, “Hola, mi esposa. Did you sleep well?”

“Si, it was very nice,” she sighed and opened her eyes to look up at him. She was surprised at the look that greeted her. She’d been expecting warmth, lust, heat. Instead she was greeted with something else. Something much darker. His face was devoid of expression, but his eyes held a sinister promise.

She pushed herself back and sat up. She didn’t want to be in such an inferior position while he was looking at her like that, like he might devour her whole. She wanted some space. She shoved her blond hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ears.

“Are you up for a walk, cariño?” he asked, taking her arm. He pulled her from the bed, not giving her much choice but to stand.

“Sure,” she agreed. “Where are we going?”

“The prison,” he said easily walking to the closet and opening the doors.

A cold chill ran through her, obliterating the pleasantness of her nap. She knew where he wanted to take her. He was ready to deal with John and she had asked to be there when he did it. Suddenly, she regretted that choice. Everything about Sotza felt… removed, different, wrong. This was the man who had ruthlessly torn her city from her and hunted her into the ground without mercy. Not the man who had been tenderly caring for her, making love to her, showing her all the things she’d missed out on in her previous marriage.

But she couldn’t refuse to go with him. Couldn’t back out now. She was his wife. If she wanted to show him that she was capable of standing at his side, this was the time to do it. She would not lose his respect by chickening out, but at the same time she feared what she might see in the prison. As he helped her into a pair of black leggings, she wondered how she would react to seeing him at work.

“Lift your good arm,” he instructed, his voice impersonal. “I’ll help you with the other one.”

She gasped in pain, nausea running through her as her arm was lifted and fitted into the sleeve of a loose silk blouse. After Sotza buttoned the front, he tipped her chin up so she was looking at him. He gave her a look that said everything. That he was going to take vengeance on her behalf and that he was going to enjoy every second.

“Which shoes?” he asked, striding back toward the closet.

“My heels,” she said, trying to keep her voice strong. “The silver ones.”

He returned with her steel-heeled shoes, crouched in front of her and, lifting one leg at a time, slid the shoes on. She felt better with the extra height; she needed the added confidence only a good pair of shoes could give her.

She nodded at him, indicating she was ready. He didn’t take her hand, didn’t touch her. He allowed her to walk on her own, showing her strength to the world. Vee was glad that Raina was nowhere in sight as they made their way down the stairs, out the back door and into the garden. Two men dropped in behind them as they walked, shadowing them as they bypassed the garden maze, walking side by side down a concrete path toward a brightly lit building. Vee hadn’t noticed it before. She’d been locked inside the bedroom for most of her time in Sotza’s home and she hadn’t been able to see it from the angle of her windows.

It took only a few minutes for them to get to the building. Vee was relieved that her heels didn’t catch in any cracks in the pavement. She really didn’t want to ruin this significant moment by falling on her face, though every fibre of her being begged her to turn around and rush back to the safety of her bedroom. When they arrived at the building, the door opened for them as though they were expected, and someone had been watching for their arrival. She took a breath of fresh air before entering the foreboding place that held the stench of death. Not literally, but she knew to the very mortar of the structure that this was a building of torture, death and decay. Many who entered hadn’t ever left.

The entrance was brightly lit, as was the hallway leading toward several closed doors. Vee squeezed her eyes shut for a quick second, before straitening her shoulders and looking toward Sotza for instruction. He was watching her carefully, his sharp eyes on her face, reading her. He wasn’t sure of her. Didn’t know if she would pass this test. Truthfully, she didn’t know either. Her time as the boss of Miami had occasionally been bloody, had called for her to do some things she’d have rather not done. But she knew, deep down, that this was different. This was on another level. This was why she’d failed to hold her city. She didn’t have the stomach to go to the dark places Sotza did.

“This way,” Sotza said coolly, speaking for the first time since they left the house. She nodded briefly and followed him down the hall, right to the end. He stopped next to a door, gave her a pointed look, and opened it.

Mateo turned to look at them from where he was standing. He nodded and said respectfully, “Señora Sotza.”

Vee stepped through, ahead of Sotza. Her eyes went right to John who was sitting in a chair, his hands cuffed behind his back. He didn’t look too bad, and while Vee felt trepidation in being so deep in Sotza’s lair, she also felt a bit cheated that he hadn’t been more roughed up. The guys could’ve knocked him around a bit on their way back.

Sotza stepped up behind her, for just a moment, before he moved away, toward his victim. Vee felt bereft at the loss of his warmth. She wanted to cling to him, to keep him the way she needed him. The warm, loving husband he’d been showing glimpses of. Not the monster she knew was about to come out and play.

She swallowed hard and forced her hands to remain at her sides. John was staring grimly at the floor. He knew the price of betrayal. And yet he still chose to pay it.

“Why?” Vee demanded, taking the few steps that would close the distance between them. She stood directly in front of John and waited for him to lift his head. “Why did you betray our family?”

She purposefully used the word ‘our’ including not only herself and Sotza, but everyone that worked for him. For them. It made his betrayal hurt more. It made the other men who would witness this execution even angrier at John, more loyal to the Sotza cartel. She caught her husband’s eye over John’s head and saw a flash of warmth cross those dark soulless depths. He knew she’d chosen her words carefully.

“Speak now, John, as I run out of patience. And when my patience ends, my husband will go to work. Trust me when I say that this is something you’ll wish to delay.”

John lifted his head, treating her to a terrifying look. The depth of his hatred pierced her. What had she done to deserve it? She had expected desperation, fear, pleading. She hadn’t expected such defiance. But then, maybe she should have. Though he betrayed them, he was still Sotza’s man, one of his army of security. The job would be brutal, not for the faint of heart.

“You expect anything from me, puta?” he snarled. Sotza stiffened and Vee had to shake her head to stop him from stepping in. “You are here for two seconds and the keys to the throne are handed to you. We have heard the rumours about you. About how you open your legs to whoever will take you the highest. You disgust me!”

Vee smiled coolly. “That’s a very interesting way of summing up my life, John. But my past isn’t the reason for your betrayal is it? Nothing so deep as that. What was it? What did Garza promise you?” John spat at her, but she sidestepped and it landed near her feet. She sighed in annoyance and held her hand out to Mateo. “Gun please.”

Mateo looked toward Sotza with a raised brow. Sotza gave him a nod and Mateo passed his weapon over to her, butt first. She took the gun, looked it over, cocked it, putting a bullet in the chamber and then holding it to John’s head.

“You need to speak to me John, make me understand. Because if you don’t talk then there’s no reason to keep you alive. You see, as much as my husband likes to play with his food, I prefer a quick death. Perhaps you need to decide which you would prefer?” She put the gun against his arm and shot, aiming toward the bone so the bullet wouldn’t go through and ricochet. Mateo looked toward his boss again, but Sotza merely looked amused as blood sprayed across her white blouse and John started screaming. She gave him a moment to compose himself. She knew exactly how much a gunshot wound to the arm hurt, he was going to need a few minutes. When his screams died away and he began swearing at her, she slapped him in the side of the head with the gun and put it back to his ear. “That was just to prove that I’m a woman of my word. I don’t fuck around, John. The next bullet will end you. Start talking if you want a few more minutes of life.”

“You fucking puta cunt!” he yelled, glaring up at her. “Do your worst, I give you nothing.”

“Nothing?” she said conversationally. “That’s really too bad. I was hoping you might tell us exactly what it takes to become Garza’s second.” A flash of surprise crossed his features, quickly smothered, but not before both she and Mateo caught it. “Yes, that’s it, isn’t it? You do Garza’s bidding and he sets you up in the position you always wanted here, with Sotza. But that dream went further out of reach with my arrival didn’t it? I owned Miami, I negotiated alliances. Sotza doesn’t need any more in his inner circle now that I’ve arrived. What did Garza want, eh Johnny? He wanted me separated from Sotza, that was clear. We all know Sotza was to be the main victim. But what about me, was I to die as well?”

“Both,” he snarled. “And good riddance. You will weaken his hold on this country, on his trade. And he is allowing you to do this to him. He deserves to go as much as you do. Venezuela needs new leadership.”

“Your leadership?” she asked smoothly.

“Yes!”

“And who are you to think you deserve such an elevated position?” she said coldly stepping away from him. “You are nothing. Garza isn’t stupid. He would have killed you the moment he took over. He doesn’t like treasonous assholes any better than we do.”

John spewed his hatred and anger at them, giving them everything he had to give. Vee didn’t need to ask more questions. Sotza watched the proceedings calmly for several minutes, then he asked Vee, raising his voice above John’s angry outbursts, “Are you done?”

She nodded and waved her hand toward their captive, giving her husband permission to go to work. A light flared in Sotza’s eyes. Happiness. She shivered and took a few more steps back. Had she done enough? Could she gracefully exit the room without incurring her husband’s wrath? She glanced toward the door and then caught Mateo’s eye. He shook his head slightly, subtly telling her that she must remain.

Sotza turned his back to the room and took his jacket off. She watched the play of muscles beneath his shirt as he moved, rolling first one sleeve up his strong, corded arm, and then the other. When this was done, he opened a drawer in the desk tucked into the corner. He pulled a knife from the depths, unsheathed it and held it up to the light so he could look it over. Then he turned.

Vee nearly cried out at the look on his face. It was ecstasy. Pure and complete sadistic ecstasy. He was enjoying himself, looking forward to what he was about to do. The look of death that she’d learned to associate with men like him had disappeared, leaving in its place a warped pleasure. Her gut clenched and nausea gripped her. She knew she had to leave before she disgraced herself. Maybe she could’ve stayed if his face had stayed emotionless, if she could imagine that he regretted what he was about to do. But he didn’t, he wouldn’t. He would enjoy every second of the blood he spilled.

Before she could run from the room, he attacked, so fast that she stumbled back a few steps as though he were coming after her. He gripped john’s chin in one hand, yanked his tongue from between his lips with the other and sliced it off. Blood spilled down John’s chin and chest like a gory waterfall. His screams stopped abruptly and only a watery garbled sound remained. Vee had to bite her lips to keep from crying out. Dizziness washed over her. She locked her knees so she would remain standing.

“This is how I usually begin,” Sotza explained, lifting his eyes to hers. They were bright, manic, like he had a fever. “The screaming is distracting. I prefer music.”

Vee felt like she was swimming, like she was watching him through water or glass. Almost slow motion as he turned to the table he’d pulled the knife from, dropped John’s severed tongue on top and tapped a button on a black box. Music filled the room. Some kind of classical music. Vee didn’t know what it was. She didn’t listen to classical music. She usually preferred silence so she could hear her thoughts.

Sotza stepped back to John, standing at his side, staring down, his face a terrifying mask. “You tasered my wife, John. Look at her.” He gripped John by the back of the head and forced his face up toward Vee. “She is small, she is delicate. She should never be harmed, let alone hit with 100,000 volts. That’s about how much it was, right John? You shot her twice with a weapon I provided in case you needed to subdue someone without killing them. Except you messed up, John. You shot my beautiful wife then you handed her over to my enemy. Bad. Fucking. Move. John.”

Vee closed her eyes as Sotza attacked the man again, his knife flashing. She didn’t want to know what was happening, but from the horrific sounds coming from john she suspected it was awful. When she opened her eyes again she saw blood trickling down razor thin cuts across his cheeks, upper lip and chin. Sotza was slicing him open one piece at a time. Her gaze strayed to the blood making a path down the side of John’s head then shifted to the floor where she saw a strip of flesh she suspected was an ear. Her stomach lurched and she didn’t have time to close her eyes again when Sotza bent behind John. She heard something hit the floor, saw the agony twisting John’s face, suspected he’d just lost a finger or two.

This was The Butcher. The man she never wanted to meet, the man she’d married. Gone to bed with. Hoped for a future with. It was like watching the devil dance with his prey. Macabre, graceful, twisted. She couldn’t watch but she wouldn’t turn away either. She was caught, helpless in his spell.

“You’ve seen me do this before,” Sotza said quietly from behind his victim, leaning over to speak in John’s good ear. “You know exactly how long this can go on for. You know how good I am at keeping my prisoners alive, squeezing out every last drop of pain. You know this is my favourite part, don’t you John?”

He rounded the chair to stand in front of John, staring down at him. He bent to one knee, lifted the hem of John’s pant leg and made a quick slice. John lurched in the chair, his face twisting harder than she’d seen yet.

“Achilles tendon,” Sotza said. She didn’t know who he was talking to. He was still bent in front of John. “Supposed to be one of the most painful cuts a person can experience. A particular favourite of mine.” He sliced through the other one and stood, staring down at John as he writhed and screamed as best he could without a tongue.

Vee couldn’t see Sotza’s face from where they were standing, but she knew exactly what she would see. The maniacal ecstasy. The gratification he was receiving from this gruesome display.

“Stop,” she whispered, her voice shaky. She didn’t think he would hear her, but then he looked over at her, a frown marring the perfection of his happiness. “Just stop,” she said in a stronger voice. “You’ve played l-long enough. Put him down, Sotza. Right now.”

She wasn’t asking. She was demanding. Drawing her line in the sand and telling him where she wasn’t willing to go with him. This was it, the moment she feared would come all too fast. Their reckoning as a couple. Would he step back over the line toward her? Salvage the few good moments she’d managed to find in their war. Or would he forcibly drag her over to his side, be like every other man in her life, prove his dominance, his superior strength over her.

“Leave.” His voice was so cold, so devoid of any hint of affection that Vee knew she was in trouble. Knew she’d gone too far. “Now. Wait for me up at the house.”

“You leave with me,” she whispered pleadingly, refusing to back down.

“Get out!” he roared, shouting at her for the first time. She was so shocked it took her a few seconds to register the depth of his anger.

She lifted her chin and made to walk past him, but before she reached the door she spun around. She was between Sotza and Mateo. Neither man had time to react as she lifted Mateo’s gun and emptied it into John. One bullet to the head, one to the heart, three in his torso. His head flew back, his body shuddered with each impact and then he went limp. Dead.

Vee handed the gun to Mateo who was quick to take it from her. She turned back to Sotza, facing what she knew could be her execution.

35

Vee paced the bedroom, trying everything she could to get her mind off those horrifying images. She’d killed before. Twice to be exact… well three times now. But the other times had been in self-defence, mostly. Tony didn’t count, she was ending her marriage, not conducting business. Every time she’d had to kill she’d used a gun. She hadn’t tortured anyone… mostly. Hadn’t taken pleasure in slicing off little pieces of them. Not the way Sotza had. He’d enjoyed every moment of his victim’s pain.

She shuddered in disgust, reliving the bloody scene. She would never forget the image, it was burned into her memory. After she killed John, Sotza sent her back up to the house with one of his men, instructing him to lock Vee in the bedroom. She’d gone quietly. What else could she do? She wasn’t the type to fight a losing battle. And she had felt the anger rolling off Sotza, knew he probably sent her away so he wouldn’t do something irreparable to her.

She wrapped her arms around herself as she continued to pace, trying to swallow the rising panic. She made the wrong move in every way. She’d interrupted Sotza at work, she undermined him, she forced her will on the situation. In short, she’d acted without thinking. Not something Vee usually did. Like Sotza, she was a planner, she made decisions with cool, careful thought. Sotza had every right to be angry with her.

Knowing that didn’t help her anxiety. She had crossed The Butcher. She would have to pay the price of betrayal, as John had. She was probably going to die. Thinking about what he’d done to John hit her again and she nearly ran for the toilet.

“Nice work, Vee,” she mumbled to herself. “You finally find a husband you can possibly live with and in less than a week you manage to royally fuck that up.”

The door opened. Vee froze as Sotza strode into the room. He looked the same. Sleeves rolled up his arms, tie missing. There was no blood on him, not a single drop. There should be blood on him considering what she’d witnessed. Yet he looked immaculate. He looked at her as she assessed him. He watched without emotion, his gaze cold and dead, eyes flat. He gave her a minute as she struggled to come to terms with him as a man, a murderer and a husband.

“Sotza,” she said trying for a conciliatory tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect - ”

“You will not defy me like that in front of my second, or any of my men. Ever,” he said quietly, menacingly. He took a step toward her, his dark eyes blazing to life with fury.

“Sotza, let’s talk about this. I know I fucked up, but the way you were acting - ”

“You will not defy me again, Elvira,” he interrupted sharply, repeating himself.

An answering anger flared to life within her. He wouldn’t accept either apology or explanation. She had suspected, no, she knew, that they would clash over something like this. The dominant mafia boss who talked lip service about giving her freedom and setting her up at his side only to strip it away the moment they disagreed. He was reliving her last marriage.

“Or what?” she cried. If he wouldn’t accept her apology then she would fight him, try to make her point. “You’ll do to me what you did to John? Isn’t that what you were going to do to me in Miami? Before you met me?”

“I was working,” he said icily. “You know the difference.”

“You fucking enjoyed every minute out there in that disgusting prison. Don’t bother to deny it. I was there, I saw your face as you cut him to pieces while he was still alive.”

“Vee,” he said warningly, stepping toward her. She backed up, her legs bumping the bed. “I won’t deny I enjoyed torturing the man that handed my wife over to the Mexican cartel. I would have done just as much damage for less.”

“No,” she snapped. “There’s a difference between revenge killing and what you did. You like it, you like hurting people. You’re a fucking psychopath!”

“Enough!” he yelled, reaching for her.

Vee jumped back, swiping her good arm at him. “Don’t you fucking touch me!”

The look that crossed his face was utterly terrifying. She’d seen it in her nightmares, before Sotza captured her and showed her his loving side. She’d seen it out in his prison building when he was cutting John to pieces. She wondered if she was about to die. He grabbed her, so suddenly that she was standing next to him one moment, then on her back a second later, trapped beneath him. His hands gripped her arms tightly. She yelped in pain as his hand squeezed her injured arm.

“You will never again refuse my touch,” he said to her, his voice chilling.

“Fuck you!” she hissed, struggling to heave him off, roll out from underneath him.

He ripped her blouse, right down the middle, popping the buttons. She cried out and slapped at him, but he held her arms while ripping the rest of her clothes from her body. What the fuck was he doing? She was naked beneath him now, only her bra still on and he’d yanked it so her small breasts were pushed over the top. She didn’t understand until he shifted his body, placing his hips between her legs and reaching for his zipper. His movements were quick, efficient.

His intent became obvious and Vee started to really freak out. “Stop, Sotza!” she begged, her voice rising. “Isaac, what are you doing?”

“Don’t fight me, Vee. You’ll injure you’re arm,” he said, his voice impassionate, though anger poured off him in spades. He gripped her face in one hand, shoving her chin up and to the side. His elbow rested on her sternum, pinning her to the bed. She tried to slap at him, but she couldn’t see what she was doing, couldn’t properly reach him. She kept hitting his arms and it was like hitting a brick wall – it didn’t move him.

“If you do this I’ll find a way to kill you!” Tears sparking in her eyes.

She gasped as his fingers touched her, entered her. Anger sizzled through her veins sparking an erotic charge. The air practically snapped with the tension between them. She brought her knee up, trying to slam it into his side. He was right, she couldn’t keep slapping him without hurting her shoulder. But her legs worked just fine. He grunted when her sharp knee connected with his ribs. Unfortunately, the move gave him better access to her vulnerable pussy. He pushed his fingers further into her, harder, more firmly against her g-spot. He flicked a thumb over her clit and she cried out. He wasn’t just going to brutally take her body, he was going to force a response.

He kept her pinned with an elbow on her chest and grabbed her leg, gripping it just above her knee and forcing it higher, opening her wider. She growled as he pumped his fingers in her, applying pressure to all the right spots and sliding his thumb over her clit. Her hips picked up the rhythm though her brain splintered in every direction; caught between the need to greedily sponge all the pleasure he was offering and horrified by his actions.

“Fuck!” she yelled as her orgasm built. She squirmed and fought, but he was much heavier and stronger. And she was fighting with an injury.

He took her chin and moved her head to face him. “Look at me,” he demanded, his voice a deep growl. “Am I The Butcher now, Elvira?”

“Fuck… you!” she snarled.

His eyes darkened at her defiance and he thrust himself harder between her legs. Unable to pull him away from him she wound her fingers in the cuff of his shirt and held on. He pulled his fingers from her and she cried out at the loss. She thought he would enter her then, push his long, thick cock against her and fill her up. The way she needed. Instead his fingers, saturated in her wet, sticky response, moved lower. She cried out and tensed up when his fingers sought her back entrance, touching her, exploring, then shoving past the barrier of her anal ring in one thrust. She cried out and dug her fingernails into his arm.

Pain shot through her body as she tried to adjust to his rough entry. She panted, trying to breathe through the new and strange feelings flooding through her. She tried to close her legs, deny him further entry, but he effortlessly kept her positioned, spread wide for his assault. She wanted to yell, to swear at him but she was too swamped by sensations. She couldn’t catch her breath enough to form the words. He began moving his fingers in her tight passage, raking them across sensitive erogenous zones she didn’t know she had, lighting her lower body up with a heady combination of pain and pleasure.

He was mastering her, showing her that he could do anything he wanted to her, whether it was to cause pain or pleasure. He could give her the world and he could take it away just as easily. While he wreaked havoc on her body, he devastated her mind. As long as she knew he was capable of doing this to her, attacking her, forcing her pleasure against her will, she would never be his equal partner. She would always be just a woman.

He twisted his fingers inside her. She cried out as his knuckles dug into her sending sparks of pain radiating through her ass. But as quick as the pain came, it receded and was replaced by an equally unbearable pleasure. He pressed his thumb into her pussy, until he was hooking her in both holes. The pressure was so intense she didn’t know which way was up. She was so far past fighting him, she was now just trying to survive what he was doing to her. She covered her face with her hand, trying to at least visually block him out.

“Look at me,” he demanded. She moved her hand without thinking. She wouldn’t defy him now, not while he had complete control over her. His fingers picked up a rhythm that made everything within her focus on that precious orgasmic point. Her salvation. To fly into oblivion, away from him. “You will not take your eyes off me when you come.”

She stared up at him, watching his hard, implacable face while he forced the forbidden on her. Drove her higher and higher. She tipped her head back, but kept her eyes glued to him as her orgasm screamed towards her.

“Who is your master?” His voice was harsh.

She bit her lip and shook her head, refusing to give him what he wanted. Suddenly the pressure in her anal passage increased. She didn’t know what he did, was beyond being able to follow his movements, but the shift sent her soaring higher. Higher than she thought possible. She thought she would shatter, that her heart would stop from this sexual torture he was playing out on her. He was going to kill her with sex.

“Who do you obey?” he asked, his voice a guttural snarl.

She couldn’t take any more. “You!” she screamed as she hurtled over the edge of her orgasm. He didn’t let her enjoy it though, he kept pumping his fingers, demanding more from her.

“Say my name!”

“Sotza!” she yelled, tears leaking.

He moved his hand to her throat and squeezed, just shy of choking her. “Again,” he demanded, pulling his fingers from her ass and lining his cock up.

“Please,” she begged him, sobbing, not even knowing what she was begging for. She was terrified that he was going to enter her anally and tear her to shreds. But a dark part of her wanted him to. Wanted that magnificent pressure to come back.

“My name!” he shouted from above her.

“Isaac Sotza!” she yelled back. He thrust into, taking her vaginally. Relief and pleasure shot through her sending her soaring.

“Again,” he growled hovering over her. A bead of sweat fell from his forehead onto her cheek.

“Isaac Sotza!” she screamed, digging her fingernails into whatever piece of flesh she could reach.

“Who owns you, Elvira Sotza?”

“Isaac Sotza…” She sobbed. She would have promised him the world in that moment.

His fingers tightened around her throat, cutting off her ability to breathe. She didn’t care. In fact, she was so caught up in the moment, drugged with endorphins that her lack of breath pushed her higher toward the intense peak she was desperately seeking. Her mouth opened in a wordless cry of ecstasy, she pressed her knees into his sides, cradling him, taking each brutal thrust and silently begging for more.

He lowered his face until it was inches from her own and watched her, his wild dark eyes holding hers captive as he fucked her with a brutality that was exciting, erotic, terrifying. She didn’t know if she would survive, blackness dotted her vision and she felt helpless to do anything but take the savagery he was forcing on her. She felt his cock grow bigger inside her as he neared his own release, as he drove her toward another exhilarating peak. She tried to gasp for breath, but nothing came out.

Just as he slammed into her one last time, releasing his tight grip on her neck and forcing a shattering orgasm from her, he lowered his lips and growled into her ear, “Mi esposa. Hasta la muerte.”

My wife. Until death.

36

“She’s planning something.”

Mateo had asked for this meeting. Was giving Sotza a complete picture of Vee’s movements for the week. Since meeting Vee in person, getting to know her intelligence and cunning, Mateo had more respect for her. Was more willing to babysit a woman. It certainly didn’t hurt that her daughter was a stunning, younger version. And the two women spent a lot of time together.

“Explain,” Sotza said, sitting back in his chair and watching the younger man coldly.

Mateo didn’t sit. He rarely sat down unless invited to dinner at the main house. He was energetic, athletic and driven. Sotza suspected he also wasn’t conformable enough to settle easily around his boss. Sotza didn’t have a problem with his subordinates feeling ill at ease around him. It indicated healthy respect.

“She’s watching the security rotations with more than passing interest and asking questions.”

“That is her right as my wife and mistress of my property. If she were to see a fault in my security I would expect corrective action to be taken immediately.” Sotza placed a hand on the desk. The one with his wedding band.

Mateo’s eyes flickered to the plain gold band. He pushed forward, despite the subtle warning. “No, she’s not complaining about security. She’s filing the information away in that sharp brain of hers. She’s definitely planning something, and I don’t like it.”

Sotza watched the other man, silently thinking over his words. “You want me to put a leash on my wife?” His tone was quiet, pleasant almost. Deadly.

To Mateo’s credit he didn’t flinch. Though he’d heard that tone many times. Usually as Sotza was explaining something to the person sitting under his knife. “No, Señor Sotza. I would not suggest such a thing.”

“I didn’t think so,” Sotza said, satisfied. “You may go back to work now.” Mateo nodded sharply, turned on his heel and strode to the door. Sotza’s voice stopped him. “And Mateo?”

“Si, Señor?”

“You will continue to attend to my wife. Catalogue her movements, but do not interfere. No matter what. Am I understood?”

“Of course, Señor.” Mateo left the office. Likely more confused and annoyed about the situation than he had been. It amused Sotza to fuck with his second-in-command a little. The man was arrogant, cocky, sure of his skills. While his attitude had been well earned under Sotza’s regime, it still wouldn’t hurt the man to get knocked down a peg. And Sotza needed to play this situation carefully.

Sotza was in love with his wife. It was unexpected. It was uncomfortable, inconvenient, aggravating, exhilarating. He had sensed from their very first meeting that they would be compatible, both physically and practically. Vee was a sharp woman and brutal in her own right. She didn’t realize it, but she was the eye of the storm. Everything whirled around her, chaotic and elemental, eventually crashing down to land at her feet. She demanded the chaos bow to her, and it did.

She was beautiful in a way she didn’t perceive. Yes, she understood her physical allure, her sexiness, and she used it to draw people in like flies to honey. But she couldn’t possibly understand how intoxicating her idealistic innocence was to the dark world she inhabited, to Sotza. For a thirty-seven-year old woman with several lifetimes worth of experience, she was innocent to so many things. She was intelligent, she operated in the underworld with relative ease, could hold her own, yet she still held onto that purity. Whether she realized it or not, she wanted the world to be a better place and she took action to push it in that direction. As his wife, he wanted to preserve this characteristic, nurture it, bask in the essence of something he’d been forced to lose as a child, maybe never had.

Vee pardoned people that shouldn’t be pardoned, giving them free passes when they fucked up. She was protective of the people that drifted into her circle. She wasn’t just mother to Raina, she was mother to all that she deemed worthy. She loved and protected. She listened with her ears and her heart.

It was gratifying that she tried to step up with him, bold that she wanted to watch him at work. But also, it made him a little happy that she wasn’t as bloodthirsty as he. It made her softer, more feminine. Alluring. Made him want her even more. His mistake, letting her come with him to deal with John. A mistake he wouldn’t repeat.

Now it was up to Sotza to protect the things he loved about his wife. She thought he was trying to force her into the shadows, to force her obedience with his heavy handedness. And, in a way he was. He needed her to listen and obey no matter the situation. It was the only way to protect the precious woman she’d somehow managed to preserve through decades of abuse. She couldn’t shine until she was free to do it without obstacles. And one of those obstacles was Vee herself. If she couldn’t settle into the structured, brutal and demanding lifestyle that came with standing at Sotza’s side, then he would have to keep her locked up, away from the world. A pity. Someone like Vee should always stand in the sun.

During the days she coldly ignored him. She would attend meals with him, speak when spoken to, but she refused to extend to him the warmth she showed others. Her attitude amused him and assured him that his rough handling hadn’t broken the part of her he wished to protect, that fiery independence, the softness that allowed her feelings to be hurt by his actions. Sotza was nothing if not patient. He’d learned over his years of leadership that quiet patience would lure his prey to him, rather than send them running into hiding. Not that he minded chasing Vee back in Miami, but now was the time to let her find her way to him.

She still had free reign of the house and grounds so she spent her time exploring, spending time with Raina and getting to know his staff. He was aware she had the ulterior motive of trying to find out his security rotations. Sotza trusted his people. They were flawless when it came to security.

Sotza spent the next week waging a campaign of dominance over her body, proving to her that he was her master. At first, she tried to resist, tried to push him away, but the more he pushed back, the more he loved her body with erotic violence, the more she fell victim to his advances. He would purposely disconcert her, cornering her in some part of the house, sometimes a room that was more public than she was comfortable with. He would shove her against a wall, bend her over a table, whatever his imagination decided, and he would fuck her. Sometimes hard, when she resisted, and other times leisurely, teasing her, bringing her senses alive before fulfilling them both.

Each evening, as she was getting ready for sleep, Sotza would come to their bed. After the first night, she stopped trying to deny him. There was no point. He always won the fight, by sheer physical strength and by mental fortitude. He wanted to own her, show her that every part of her belonged to him, even the heart she tried so hard to shield from him. He’d proved it the first night after John’s death, and every night since, ruthlessly bringing her body alive under his touch. Forcing the words he wanted to hear past her lips.

Some might say his coercive methods wouldn’t work. That what his wife said in the throes of passion meant nothing. Sotza considered what he was doing to Vee in the same light as torture. Sure, what the victim said while under duress could mean anything. Any person would lie under extreme circumstances. But Sotza looked beyond the words. He looked into the eyes and hearts of his victims and pulled the truth from them. More importantly, they saw the truth for themselves. Eventually, when left to linger on the matter long enough. Vee had shortened John’s life considerably more than Sotza had intended. He would have kept the man alive long enough to allow him to recognize his errors in life. Long enough to make peace with his God. But she was soft. And kind. She didn’t understand the necessity of pain as truth.

It was his intention to show her the way to truth between them. He would break her down until he conquered her, owned her. Mind, body and soul.

37

“Vee.” His deep voice disturbed her thoughts and stopped her in midstride. She turned slowly on the spot, mentally preparing herself for the coming confrontation.

She was walking through the gardens, searching for Raina who seemed to love the hedge maze. Vee didn’t see the appeal, she kept hitting dead ends which frustrated her almost to the point of wanting to burn the damn thing down. Vee was too no-nonsense for something as whimsical as a garden maze. While she could understand the visual appeal, she hated wasting her time. Which she did every time she went into the damn thing. A part of this garden, especially the maze, called to Raina. She spent hours sitting among the shrubbery, thinking and writing. Sometimes Vee sat with her, quietly observing while Raina did her thing. Sometimes they would walk and talk.

Her heels clicked on the paving stones as she wandered through, lost for the most part, searching for her daughter. Somehow she’d either stumbled on Sotza or he’d known exactly where to find her. She suspected it was the latter. The man was incredibly good at always knowing precisely where to find her and sneaking up on her. She gave him a pointed look, refusing to speak.

As she much as she thrilled at his touch, the truth of their relationship was hammered home, again and again. Each time he cornered her, fucked her, brought her body alive against her will. She was not his equal, and she never would be.

“Walk with me,” he said. His eyes took on a warm glow as they slipped over her body, taking in her neat white blouse, buttoned right up her neck with a little ruffle around the top, her grey satin pencil skirt and high heels.

Sotza was more casual at home. Dress pants, button up shirt with the top few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up. He wore a vest too. And though it was a little old-fashioned, it looked mouth-wateringly good on him. It highlighted his lean frame. He looked good to her. He always looked good though.

“Do I have a choice?” she asked coldly.

“You always have a choice, Vee.” He stepped up toward her. “But, as you have learned, your choice will inform my subsequent action.”

“You’re a bastard.” But she allowed him to take her arm.

He ignored her provocativeness. “I want to show you something.”

“Is it a severed head?” she asked sarcastically. “Because I’d rather wait until lunch has settled.”

As if she hadn’t spoken, he led her leisurely through the maze, like they were simply a couple, out for a simple stroll in the estate gardens. Vee forced some of the tension from her shoulders and relaxed, at least as much as she could while in Sotza’s presence. She inhaled the fragrant scent of the greenery, intermingled with the perfume of the flowers. It was impossible to resist the allure of his garden, to remain angry while she was in the presence of such beauty.

“Why did you have this garden built?” A bit of warmth infused her words. “It doesn’t serve a purpose. Unless you force your victims to try to get through the damn maze as a form of torture.”

He chuckled and shifted his hand from her arm to slide it across her back, resting his palm just above the curve of her ass. He reached for her with his other hand, holding her hand in a light grip. The move was almost romantic or would have been had she trusted him.

“I didn’t build the garden, my father did. But I maintained it and expanded. I had the maze added to the grounds about twenty years ago. It’s relaxing to come to such a place when my thoughts are chaotic. I feel more at peace here than most places.” He led them toward what she thought must be the center of the maze.

“It’s magnificent,” she admitted hesitantly.

“But?” he prodded.

She sighed and shrugged a shoulder. “I keep getting lost.”

He smiled down at her as they took the last turn. They were in the middle of the maze. There was a bench and the hedges had been allowed to grow as tall as trees. Vee thought it looked ominous and didn’t enjoy spending time in that section, even with Raina.

“I’ve been here before,” Vee pointed out.

Sotza didn’t respond and she began to wonder if he brought her to the middle of the maze so they might have a secluded moment for him to continue his campaign of dominance over her. She stopped walking, eyeing the bench with trepidation. There was no chance she wanted to fuck around out there, in the cool mountain air where anyone could stumble upon them. If that was his intention then he was about to be sorely disabused, via a heel stabbed into the centre of his foot.

“Sotza…” she said warningly. He didn’t say a word, just held her hand and led her toward the far corner of the section they were standing in. She shivered and squinted as shadows embraced them. “What are you doing? It looks like spiders might live back there. I don’t like spiders.”

His chuckle of amusement ran through her like warm spicy rum. It felt good, comforting and incredibly sexy. Though it’d been well over a year since she had a drink, the memory felt right. Sotza was an addiction. He was intoxicating. Even when she wanted to hate him she still craved him.

“No spiders,” he said in his deep soft voice. “I promise.”

He dropped her hand and took several steps forward, further into the shadows, then, even though she was looking right at the shady spot he’d been striding toward, he disappeared. “Sotza!” she gasped.

“Come to me, Vee,” he said. His voice clear and crisp. “Step toward my voice.”

She blinked several times and tried to figure out where he’d gone, why she could hear him as though he was standing next to her, but she couldn’t see any part of him. She held an arm out and walked forward. The darkness settled around her and she swore she was about to walk directly into a hedge filled with spiders.

She jumped when a hand came out of the shadows and landed on her arm. He wrapped his long fingers around her forearm and pulled her gently forward. Vee took small hesitant steps not wanting to trip over a paving stone. It was so dark she couldn’t even see her own feet. She could sort of see Sotza’s outline as he walked in front of her pulling her forward. Then he was taking steps to the side, pulling her along. She twisted to look behind her. Her mouth dropped open when she realized she was completely engulfed by the shadowy hedges.

“A hidden passage?” she murmured. She didn’t want to speak too loudly. It felt inappropriate in a space where the only sound was the tapping of her heels.

“An optical challenge,” he said. “The hedges have been allowed to grow taller here, reaching a certain length and particularly shadowing that back corner, creating the illusion of a wall. It’s impossible to see the true passage unless you walk right through it.”

Vee was both stunned and a little creeped out by the hidden passage Sotza was leading her down. If he wanted to kill her without witnesses, this would be the place to do it. Although, if Sotza really wanted to kill her, he could do it easily. And he wouldn’t give two fucks who saw.

Sotza stopped, his hand tightened a little on her arm before falling away. She heard rustling as he touched the brush. Then she heard a soft scrape. “This,” Sotza said, “is the true center of the maze.”

He pushed open a door, flooding the passage around them with light. Vee slid past him, her mouth open in awe as she walked through the door. It was an area the size of a large room. Somehow, the hedges had been trimmed in such a way that the area was brightly lit, the sun shining in every corner. In the middle was a sundial. Ivy wrapped up the marble base, twining through the dial. The entire area was filled with pink, red and white roses. In one corner, surrounded by roses, was a bench.

Vee walked to the sundial. Looking down at it she traced her fingers across the roman numerals. Warmth from the sun shining on it touched her fingertips. She turned to look at Sotza, studying him.

“This is yours?” she asked.

He nodded, staring at her, a small smile playing around his lips. “Yes, I built this. It’s where I come when I need an escape. No one knows about it, except the gardener who helped me design and install it. He still maintains it for me, though he’s well past retirement age.”

“It’s… beautiful,” she said softly.

She wandered to the bench and sat down. Again, the warmth that’d seeped into the wood was now caressing Vee. Sotza sat next to her, close enough that his knee brushed hers. But he didn’t touch her beyond that. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together in front of him.

“You’re the first person I’ve brought here.”

Her breath caught and she watched him, watched his profile, the beauty of the garden in her peripheral, the sensual perfume of the roses wrapping her in a cocoon. The moment held significance. She thought she understood. Sotza was a killer. Out of necessity he killed. But just because he was cold and efficient at his job didn’t mean that he couldn’t perceive beauty. That the monster, The Butcher, wasn’t able to understand the personal cost of being an underworld boss. And he brought Vee to his private sanctuary. Was he trying to tell her that she gave him peace too? Or perhaps it was that she was the beauty that tamed his inner monster? It didn’t matter. She was happy to be here with him in this place.

“My father was a cold man,” Sotza said unexpectedly.

Vee smiled and lifted a brow, “I figured that you got it from somewhere. My best guess would’ve been your dad.”

Sotza turned his head to look at her, his expression serious. “You think I’m a cold man?”

She considered him. “I think you can be cold, yes,” she said softly. “But you have those moments where I know you’re anything but cold.”

The corner of his lip lifted in a smile and his dark eyes lingered over her curves, stopping on her bare knees where her legs were crossed. “I can assure you, Vee, when it comes to you, I am an inferno of heat.”

Her face warmed. She was actually blushing, and from an almost poetic statement. He hadn’t even said anything crude. But the erotic undertone to his words charged the atmosphere around them and she was unprepared for his next words. “I was nine the first time I killed someone.”

Vee’s heart lurched. She tried picturing him as a child. “What happened?” she asked.

“My father wanted me to learn the family business, to understand my duty. He forced me to participate in something…” His voice trailed off. Vee felt devastated for him. For the child forced to do something so awful. He looked over at her, pinning her with that dark gaze. “Don’t pity the child, Vee. Even at that young age I was not innocent. I’d done things that would shock you. Murder was just the next step in an evolution.”

“An unnatural one,” she said. “You were only a child. And you’d been forced to live a life without choices. Even if you’d done terrible things, it wasn’t your fault. What happened to your parents?”

He paused for a moment, then, “My father died of pancreatic cancer fifteen years ago. My mother lives in Bogotá, Columbia. She spends her days travelling, shopping and visiting friends. I’m sure you’ll meet eventually, though she doesn’t often make her way up here.”

The explanation of his family was so normal it was unexpected. Vee had expected something more dramatic, like an enemy taking them out or something, Sotza becoming The Gentleman Butcher in bloody revenge. Despite the normal, something had shaped him, changed him to the man he’d become. “You should never have been forced into the family business. Your father was wrong to do that to you.”

He studied her, his face impassive. “Are you defending me, Vee?” he asked.

She frowned and thought about it. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“Good,” he said, satisfaction leaking into his tone. “This is the woman I saw when we were in Miami. This is the woman I want by my side. I want your loyalty. The loyalty you so easily give to others.”

Vee jumped to her feet and would’ve moved away from him except he grabbed her wrist.

“The people who have my loyalty earned it,” she snapped twisting her wrist.

“And I demand your loyalty,” Sotza said standing. When he stood that close to her, he towered over her.

She tipped her head back and glared at him. “You tricked me into this garden… to prey on my sympathies!”

He held her locked against him. “I brought you here so you could experience my sanctuary.”

“You played me,” she accused.

“I spoke the truth, Elvira.” He hunched his shoulders and lowered his head to press his face into the curve of her neck. His breath tickled just below her ear as he breathed her in. “You are my peace. You belong in this place with me.”

“I belong where I choose…” Her voice came out more breathless than she intended as he kissed her behind the ear, right next to her hairline, his nose nuzzled against her.

“You belong to me,” he said gruffly, his arms tightening. “Say it, tell me who you belong to.”

“Isaac…” she said warningly.

“Yes,” he agreed. “You belong to Isaac Sotza. Now say it again.”

A smile quirked her lips and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes and soaking up the sun. She wouldn’t win against his brand of persuasion and his touch was too heavenly to resist. “Why don’t you make me…”

38

It was pouring rain as they ran behind the garden hedges, ducking the security that Vee knew had passed less than thirty seconds before. It hadn’t rained since her arrival in Venezuela, but it sure as hell was raining like some kind of vengeance water apocalypse now. Vee wasn’t sure if it was a good thing because the rain would provide cover, or if they were likely to drown before she accomplished her mission. She also worried about the helicopter being able to land.

“I don’t think I could possibly be any wetter,” Raina complained from beside her, swiping at her glasses in an attempt to clear the water.

Vee agreed. They were both dressed in dark clothes, hats pulled low over pale faces. They weren’t wearing any kind of rain gear. Vee’s shoes sent up a shower of water from the grass with every footfall.

“We don’t have a choice,” Vee said to her daughter as she hustled them around the backside of the garden. She had intended to use the shadows cast by the bushes to hide from the moonlight, but the rain eliminated the need.

“I thought you said we were going to brazen this out,” Raina yelled as loud as she dared so Vee would hear her over the pounding rain. “This feels a lot like covert sneakiness.”

Vee ignored her daughter and reached out to grip her wrist dragging her across a dip in the lawn. Raina tripped and nearly landed face down in a puddle. Their timing was definitely bad. Especially if they went through all this and rescue wasn’t able to land in the deluge. She just had to hope that they were coming no matter what.

The trek out to the small airfield took much longer than usual since they were on foot. Her getaway plan was going to go down in a fizzle if they both caught pneumonia and died. She gripped Raina harder as they sloshed across the soggy lawn under the cover of darkness. They stopped at certain points while Vee looked down at the timer on her phone counting down the seconds until she knew security had either passed or not arrived yet, then she would hustle her daughter to the next stopping point.

She had decided to leave the mansion directly after their evening meal. Sotza always closeted himself in his office after supper, attending to oversea markets as they opened. He rarely paid Vee any attention once he disappeared, leaving her alone for three to four hours until he was finished and ready to come to their bed. His predictable pattern was a benefit to Vee, though if she’d been a good wife she would have pointed it out, insisted he change his routine so he wouldn’t be caught by surprise by an enemy. Instead, she was taking advantage. She shoved a sliver of guilt aside. She had no choice, she needed this to work. After spending two decades protecting her child she wouldn’t just roll over and allow the mafia to have her.

As they approached the airstrip, Vee looked around, her sharp eyes attempting to see through the haze of rain. It was difficult to tell but she was pretty sure that there was no security beyond one man, who was currently hiding out inside the control booth. She gritted her teeth, hoping she was right about both her observations and instincts. She watched her phone intently. It was turned off to any signal, but the timer and clock still worked. She hoped Sotza wasn’t tracking them by any other method, that her careful planning would be enough to enable an escape.

She stared down, hunching to protect the device from getting wet, counting down with the clock until it ran out. 19:10. Time to go.

“Now,” she said to Raina.

Raina glanced back toward the estate, almost longingly, before she nodded decisively and followed her mother onto the tarmac. They didn’t run, they didn’t hide. They strode confidently toward the shack, two soaking wet blonds with matching attitudes that blazed bright despite the rain.

Vee flung the door to the control room open, surprising the man who huddled within. He leapt to his feet, gun in hand, facing the two women. He gaped for a moment before lowering his weapon.

“Señora Sotza,” he said, surprise in his voice.

“Rodrigo,” she acknowledged, nodding toward the instrument panel in front of him. “Someone will be landing here in two minutes. You need to give them clearance.”

He eyed her sceptically. “Do they have permission to land?”

“I’m giving them permission, Rodrigo. They’re my friends.” She stared him down until his dark eyes darted away. “Tell me, what has my husband told you and the other men about my needs?”

“That any and all requests are to be met immediately,” he said without hesitation.

“And I am requesting that my friends be allowed to land,” she said sharply. “Without difficulty from you or anyone else on the Señor’s security team.”

He frowned as though contemplating her words. She glanced out the window and was gratified to see a shadow against the mountainous backdrop moving rapidly toward their positon, all but obscured by the rain. It didn’t matter what conclusion he came to at this point, the helicopter was about to land. Apparently Rodrigo decided that he didn’t entirely trust her. He began reaching toward the phone on the desk. “I think I’d better…”

Vee pulled her gun from the holster hidden beneath her dark jacket and pointed it at him. “I was a little worried you would think something like that,” she said coldly. “Drop your weapon. Hands up and away from that phone, Rodrigo.”

“Si, Señora,” he said, his eyes darting around nervously. He carefully placed his gun on the desk and raised his hands slowly. They twitched a little as though he wanted to go for the phone anyway, despite her threat.

She sighed and tapped the gun against her thigh. “I think you better step over here so you won’t be tempted to interfere. I don’t want to have to kill you Rodrigo. Up now, please stand and walk toward us, slowly. Hands behind your head, fingers locked.”

He did as he was told, perhaps correctly reading the deadly glint in Vee’s eyes. Her gaze snapped rapidly from him to the incoming helicopter, still barely visible through the rain. He took two steps toward them, away from the panel, away from the phone. Vee shot him and barely paused to let him fall as she stepped over him and reached toward the phone. She lifted the receiver and pressed it against her ear and then glared down at Rodrigo.

“You need to shut up so they can hear me,” she snapped impatiently over his shouts of pain.

“But you shot him!” Raina said loudly crouching at his side. “Why did you do that?”

Vee ignored her horrified daughter and called the cell number her friend had provided. “We’re here,” she said, then listened for a moment. “Yes, both of us. You’re safe to land.”

She dropped the phone back into the cradle. Although most people used cell phones, land lines were better for security. Sotza was smart in his choice to keep parts of his organization old-fashioned. She dropped to her knees next to Rodrigo and pressed her gun against his side so he wouldn’t do something stupid like grab her or Raina. She checked his injury and nodded to herself. “You’ll be fine. I didn’t hit either arteries or bone.”

He glared at her and didn’t respond.

“But why did you do it?” Raina asked angrily, her hand on his shoulder. “You promised no one would get hurt, yet you shot the first person we came across.”

Vee frowned a little. Clearly Raina didn’t understand. “He’s not hurt.”

“He has a gaping hole in him that you put there!” Raina snapped. “Obviously he’s hurt.”

Vee thought ‘gaping’ was a little melodramatic. She raised an eyebrow considering, trying to see things from her daughter’s perspective. Was this what Sotza experienced when he tried to understand her objection to the way he cold-bloodedly tortured his victims? She tried to calm her annoyance and said, “He isn’t dead, child. He’ll survive. Trust me, it needed to be this way. If your dear step-daddy thought that Rodrigo had let us land a helicopter here he would do a lot worse to the man. I’m saving him from Sotza’s wrath and making sure he doesn’t get in our way. You know, killing two birds with one stone.”

Rodrigo’s complaints suddenly died away as he saw the truth of her words. He pressed his hands against his wound and watched her silently, new respect lighting his brown eyes. Raina frowned down at him unsure. Vee wanted to hold her daughter. She was caught between worlds. Between the brutality of mob life and the kind, loving family she’d grown up in. This was why Vee wanted her out. She wanted Raina to have the choices she didn’t have.

“We need to tie him up,” Vee said, her voice hardening. “So he can’t come after us or call for help while we’re boarding the helicopter.”

Raina nodded hesitantly, clearly uncomfortable. She helped her mother tie Rodrigo with his hands behind his back. Vee was efficient in knot work and was able to tie him quickly and tightly.

“Let’s go, they’re waiting for us,” she said pulling Raina to her feet.

After securing Rodrigo, they pushed the door to the shack open and ran back out into the rain. Vee gripped Raina’s arm and made a beeline for the helicopter which was just finishing its landing. She didn’t want it to have to wait. She wanted it to take off immediately. She rushed toward it, grateful when she saw the side door open and a person crouch in the doorway, beckoning them.

When they were within feet of the chopper a female voice shouted, “Raina!” Vee grinned as Diane Duncan hurled herself out of the door, into the rain and on top of her daughter. “Oh god, Raina, I was so worried!”

The older woman sobbed as she gripped her adopted daughter.

“Mom?” Raina asked, completely shocked and mystified at how her sweet old mom was standing on the tarmac of a notorious mob boss. “What are you doing here?”

Diane looked up, her eyes meeting Vee’s. “Elvira,” she said softly, reaching out to pull Vee in for a strong hug. Vee wrapped her arms around the other woman, hugging her back, tears forming in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Diane,” she said, her voice catching with emotion. “I thought I did a good enough job of protecting her…”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Joe’s gruff voice reached them through the rain as he stepped from the helicopter, enveloping Raina in a tight hug, holding her close to his chest. “We always knew there was a possibility she could get pulled in, one way or the other. You did everything you could to make sure she lived happily.”

Vee nodded, unable to speak, tears mingling with the rain. She reached out blindly, gripping Raina, who was sobbing in the arms of her dad. Vee needed the connection. Needed to experience the wonder of touching the child she created, the child she’d given up to these people who loved her just as much as Vee ever could.

“You… you know each other?” Raina asked pulling away from her dad and swiping at the tears leaking from beneath her glasses with the back of her arm. It was a useless gesture as she was immediately soaked.

“Yes,” Diane said, beckoning them toward the helicopter. “We’ve known Elvira almost since she was a child. In fact, we consider her as much a daughter as you are.”

“Diane…” Vee said softly, climbing in behind the others, into the dry warmth of the helicopter. She glanced worriedly behind her and turned to Raina gripping her arms. “We helped each other when we were at our most desperate. Diane and Joe wanted out of the mob life and I needed to hide a baby. They were low level enough that they could disappear with a little help.”

“She gave us everything she had,” Diane said fondly. “Enough money to start over in a part of the country that no one would think to look for us.”

“I had access to records, things that might make them traceable. So I was able to destroy anything that would make them a target. No one thought I was smart enough to understand or care about such things.” She looked out the window squinting into the darkness again. “But your parents can explain all that, you need to go.”

“What?” Raina asked, her voice high-pitched. “No, you need to tell me more! I don’t understand.”

Vee shook her head and tried to step out the door. Raina tackled her in a surprisingly tight hug. “No!” she yelled, her arms tight around Vee’s neck. She could feel the girl’s hot tears against her skin. Her own forlorn tears made paths down her cheeks. “You’re my parent too, I can’t let you go, not after I’ve just found you.”

Vee allowed the hug for as long as she could, a few precious seconds, and then she pushed her daughter away. She took Raina’s face in her hands, memorizing it, the features that matched hers so exactly but also had a life of their own. “He will never stop looking for me, Raina,” she explained, hardening her words so she could push them past the lump in her throat. “I need you to go so I can breathe easy again. I need to know that you’re free. And I need to be with my husband. One day our needs will meet and so will we. Until then, go, and be happy… for me.”

“But mom…” Raina sobbed unabashedly. Diane reached out and held Raina’s shoulders.

“I love you, Raina.”

39

Almost as soon as the helicopter took off Vee was surrounded by Sotza’s men. Mateo strode toward her, his anger almost a living thing. He took her gun and threw it at one of his men. He snatched her neck and dragged her toward him, nearly lifting her off her feet. Rain streaked his face, dripping off his clenched jaw.

“Where is she?” he snarled.

She stared at him, willing her heart to slow. She wasn’t in danger. Mateo wouldn’t hurt her. Not only because she was the wife to his boss, but because she was the mother of his love. She knew he cared deeply about her daughter. It didn’t matter though. Mateo was mafia and Raina was not.

Instead of answering his question, she said softly, for his ears only, “You need to let me go, Mateo. Before Sotza sees. We both know he won’t react well to anyone else touching me. I don’t want to be responsible for what happens to you.”

He surprised her by tightening his fingers just a fraction, threateningly. Then he shoved her away. “If you don’t wanna tell me where she went then you’ll tell him. I guarantee it.”

He ordered two of his men to take her up to the house while he turned and strode to the control shack. She hoped Rodrigo would be ok. Not from the shot she gave him, he would definitely survive that tiny nick. No, she worried he wouldn’t survive Mateo if the man decided to take his frustrations out on the guard who had failed in his job.

Vee walked through the rain, setting the pace between the two men. She wanted out of the rain, but she certainly wasn’t going to rush toward her own reckoning. They took a car this time, which she was grateful for. She didn’t particulalry want to walk back through the deluge.

She had no idea what she would find when she entered Sotza’s office. She remembered the last time she’d angered him, the way he attacked her after, asserted his dominance. Since their time in his flower garden he’d been treating her with more respect, giving her the tools she needed to stand at his side without fear. Now, she worried that this action, helping Raina escape, would set their relationship back.

The front door opened and she stepped through into the estate foyer. Heat rushed at her and she basked in the warmth as it penetrated the dripping layers she wore. Adriana, the evening maid, rushed toward her with a towel clutched in her hands. She wrapped it around Vee’s shoulders and walked swiftly toward the stairs, her arm firmly around the Señora. Vee raised a brow at Adriana’s almost affectionate behaviour. While Vee had been polite to the staff, she hadn’t taken any pains to get to know them. She was first and foremost a businesswoman. She didn’t really care about cooking or cleaning and left house tasks to the housekeeper and her staff.

“Where are you taking her?” One of Vee’s guards asked sharply. “She is to go immediately to the Señor.”

Adriana sent the man a bold stare over her shoulder and snapped, “And how will the Señor react if she falls ill from remaining in these wet clothes?”

When he hesitated, she wrapped her arm around Vee’s and pulled her up the stairs. Vee was grateful for the intervention. They didn’t talk as they walked side by side to the master bedroom. Adriana hustled Vee inside and closed the door behind them.

“I thought you could use a few minutes to gather yourself,” she explained walking toward Vee’s closet and opening the double doors. Her muffled voce reached out to Vee. “You better hurry and get those clothes off. The Señor won’t wait long. Especially not for you. You seem to make him very impatient.”

She emerged from the closet with a slinky dark blue silk night dress. It dipped deep in the front between her breasts, flowed to the floor with slits up both sides showing a healthy amount of leg every time she moved. The nightdress was blatantly sexual. She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow.

“That one seems… inappropriate for an interview with my husband, who will most likely be quite angry with me.” Still, she began removing her wet clothes, peeling them off with gratitude. Her skin was chilled through and pimpled in goosebumps.

Adriana grinned. “Si, a little inappropriate for wandering through the house but feminine and irresistible. The Señor already has difficulty resisting his new esposa. In this dress, he will not remain angry for long.”

Vee raised an eyebrow, hesitated for a fraction of a second and then reached for the sapphire nightdress. At least she wouldn’t have to wear a bra with it. There wasn’t much worse than putting a bra on over diamond hard nipples and damp skin. She pulled it over her head and stood still as Adriana took over, tugging it down Vee’s lithe frame.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked pointedly once the material was in place.

“You are the Señora,” she said simply. “We must take care of you, no?”

Vee laughed in disbelief. “Sure, now why are you really helping me?”

Adriana rolled her eyes toward the door and then grinned secretively. “The Señor, he has never married before, right? We have not had a mistress around the estate until now. You are special.”

Vee snorted. “I’m not much of a mistress. I’ve barely talked to most of the staff and to be honest I only know your name because you’re the only night maid around here. I was told to ask you if I needed anything before bed.”

Adriana went back to the closet and emerged seconds later with a pair of sandaled high heels, cream satin, that would strap in place around her ankles. This was definitely going to be overkill, but she allowed it. Perhaps the girl knew what she was talking about. If it saved Vee a beating she would even wear the ass half of a horse costume.

Adriana bent in front of Vee and helped her put the shoes on. Finally, she answered. “The Señor… he was lonely for many years. With the demands of his work, he has become harsh and brutal. Though not cruel to us by any means he was a cold master. He rarely spoke and when he did it was to demand this or that. For all these years he has not changed, just gotten gruffer.” She stood and faced Vee, her eyes serious. “Then you existed. A Señora, yes, but not just any Señora. One that is rumoured to be powerful. And when you arrived it became clear that you had power over the Señor. If you need something, he demands it immediately. If you are hurt, he is hurt too. If you are happy… then so is he.”

Vee was beginning to see Adriana’s point.

“He is in love with you. And his love has changed things around here for the better.” She sighed happily, stars in her young eyes. “If keeping you happy means we keep this newer master, then we will do what we must.”

Vee smiled back. “Well, whatever the reason. I appreciate your help. I’m much more comfortable in these clothes, though maybe a little cold with the lack of fabric.”

Adriana giggled and ran to grab the matching peignoir. Vee pulled it on gratefully. It wasn’t a cable knit sweater, but it would do. And she knew what she must look like. Walking sex. While she no longer believed in trading sex for favours, she wasn’t at all opposed to playing up her sexuality if it meant Sotza might go a little easier on her.

The pit of her stomach churned as Adriana ran a brush through her damp locks and handed Vee some lip gloss. Was he going to be furious? She didn’t know how he could not be. She had done something he had expressly forbidden. He’d wanted Raina here, in his territory, where he could control and protect her. He’d been unwilling to negotiate with Vee on the matter.

Well, she was unwilling to negotiate on it either. She wanted Raina as far from the mob as the child could get. Vee wanted her to grow up, escape her roots, discover a world that women could inhabit without fear. Raina was headstrong, stubborn and determined. She would make her new life a success.

“Time to go,” Adriana whispered, her eyes wide in trepidation. “I do not think the Señor will wait much longer. Best to go to him on his terms than have him come looking for you.”

Vee thought Adriana was being a little dramatic. Though she did remember their last violent confrontation in the bedroom, after Vee had been shot. Though explosive and passionate, she would rather not be handled so roughly. Which meant, for the coming battle, she needed to keep her temper in check. Act contrite. Don’t piss off The Butcher.

“Yes,” Vee said decisively, striding toward the door with confidence. “Time to see my husband.”

40

Sotza sat behind his desk, appearing to be completely at ease when she knocked briefly and let herself in. He was reading something on his laptop, leaning slightly forward, one arm resting on the desk. He’d discarded his jacket and vest and opened the collar of his shirt showing his strong masculine throat. A few hairs curled toward the top of his shirt. His serious, rugged face was expressionless except for a deeper than usual groove between his brows. As though he was slightly disturbed by whatever he was reading.

She knew better. He was pissed off at her. Trying to decide how to play this situation. Would he attack her, like he did the last time she fucked up? Or would he treat her with the cold indifference he treated the rest of the world? Or maybe he would come up with some new way to throw her off balance.

Well, two could play that game. Vee was not a woman used to being ignored. Nor was she used to waiting on someone’s leisure. She liked to control her environment and the situations she found herself in. Which meant she wasn’t going to wait for Mr. Sotza to finally give her the time of day.

She strode purposefully toward his wet bar. A small, sturdy cabinet with a neat top that held high ball and small sherry glasses. She picked up one of the tumblers and crouched in front of the cabinet. She scanned the labels. Most were Spanish, but a few were imported. All very top shelf, which meant she shouldn’t have a problem drinking it straight up. She chose the brandy bottle, pulling it toward her. She stood gracefully and poured a healthy measure, her gaze greedily devouring the liquor as it hit the glass.

Her heart pounded as she made the decision to break her abstinence. Her nerves were completely shot, between having to say a heartbreaking good-bye to her daughter and then face her husband, not knowing how he would react to her disobedience. If ever there was a time for a drink, this was it. And Vee knew her strength, knew that one drink wouldn’t break her. She was stronger than her addiction.

She capped the bottle and set it on top of the bar. She picked up the glass and turned. As she expected, Sotza’s eyes were on her. All over her to be completely accurate. He looked at her the way she was looking at the brandy, taking in her skimpy outfit. His eyes glowed with feral heat, though his face gave nothing of his thoughts or intentions.

“You disobeyed me, Vee,” his deep voice rumbled.

She lifted her chin and moved to the seat in front of his desk, sliding into it and crossing her legs. The slit in her dress revealed her leg to the top of her thigh. His eyes lingered on her skin, but his gaze was cold when it lifted to hers.

“You have an explanation, I trust?”

Vee wanted to snort but swallowed the impulse. Be good, Vee, she silently begged herself, don’t prod the man and maybe you’ll get through this. “I get to make the decisions in my daughter’s life and I decided that she needed to go. I made arrangements.”

“Indeed,” he agreed, ice dripping from his tone. “However, you are aware, that I had other wishes for the child’s welfare. You went against a direct order when you spirited her into the night.”

“She is not your child,” Vee said, struggling to keep the anger from her voice. “She’s mine and I alone make the decisions regarding her welfare. You are the man who abducted her.”

A chill passed over her and she knew she was dangerously pushing the line. He would already be angry with her, she shouldn’t be arguing. But this was about her daughter, it was one of the most important discussions she could have. She needed to argue until she won.

“You belong to me, Elvira,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet, his stern eyes never leaving her. “You are mine to love and to hold, to keep until one or both of us dies. What belongs to you, belongs to me as well. To maintain and to cherish, the same as I would do for you.”

A sharp pain struck her chest as she absorbed his words. He loved her. And her heart was telling her that she loved him too, completely. This man was willing to love her grown-up daughter simply because she was a part of Vee. Women the world over searched for such a man to have in their lives. But Sotza was still mafia, and he always would be. Which meant that Vee would always be mafia too. Neither of them were good enough to be in Raina’s life. She couldn’t allow him to keep Raina in their organization, even if he believed he was protecting her.

“You can’t have her,” she said defiantly, standing and stepping right up to his desk. She dropped her untouched glass on the desk and spread her hands wide as she emphasized her words. “The further from your reach she goes, the safer she’ll be.”

His gaze wandered down her chest, dipping to her cleavage, now even more exposed as she leaned on his desk. She resisted the urge to cross her arms. He looked down at her hands, contemplating his next words.

“I knew the moment you left the mansion this evening,” he finally said. “I could have stopped you at any time. Could have kept Raina here.”

She suspected as much. His security had small holes in it, holes that she happily took advantage of, holes that she would be fixing when or if they got over this intense clashing of wills. But despite the small deficiencies in his security, Sotza was by no means stupid. During the entire escape she’d had the niggling thought that her powerful husband knew what she was up to and either laid a trap or… now confirmed, had sanctioned the action.

“Why didn’t you have us picked up then?” She hoped it was because he finally saw things her way. Or maybe decided that he loved her enough to let her have her way.

“I wanted to know if you would go with her,” he admitted, looking directly at her as he questioned her loyalty. “Wanted to see if you would get on the helicopter.”

Anger surged through her, heating her pale skin. She took in a sharp breath and let it out in a huff. “And what exactly would you have done if I’d gotten on that helicopter?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I would have stopped you and killed them, then brought you home and chained you to my side for the rest of your life.”

“Raina?” she gasped, a wave of dizziness hitting her as she lost the ability to breathe. Would he truly kill her only child?

“Not her,” he relented. “Through you she is now part of me. No harm with ever fall on the girl from my quarter.”

Vee’s hand shook as she picked up her glass, gazing at the amber liquid. If ever she needed a drink it was right fucking now. She lifted it to her lips.

“Stop,” he commanded her, standing from behind his desk and glaring at her. “Do not drink it, Vee.”

She glared right back and slammed the liquor to the back of her throat. Though the brandy was top shelf and mostly smooth going down she had to fight the need to cough, it’d been so long since her last drink. She thudded the glass on his desk and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Fuck you,” she said, her voice huskier than usual from the drink.

He struck out at her, fast like lightening. She flinched and tried to step back, expecting his fist to collide with the side of her face. He didn’t hit her though, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, tangling his long fingers in her hair and forcing her forward until she was half on his desk.

“You want to fuck, Vee?” he said in a guttural voice, eyes blazing with the emotion. “Is that what you’re saying to me right now?”

The savage look on his face, coupled with the way he’d been playing her body all week, called to her. Sent her libido soaring. She wanted to accept his challenge.

“Yes.” The words rushed out of her in an angry hiss. “That’s what I want.”

Pure lust sizzled between them as they stared each other down. She didn’t know who made the next move. If she crawled onto the desk or if he pulled her over top, but suddenly she was in his arms and he was kissing her with a passion that hurt, singeing her lips with the heat that constantly flowed between them until a single spark ignited the inferno. His arms banded around her, locking her against him until she was opening her mouth to gasp for the breath he was squeezing out of her only to be denied by his invading tongue. She could do nothing but hold on and take his onslaught of passion, sinking her nails into whatever she could reach.

She thought she would pass out from lack of oxygen, black dots swarming her vision, when he finally tore his lips from hers. He shoved her back on the desk, his hand cradling her head so it wouldn’t thump against the wood. Still, she cried out as something dug into her back. He lifted her just enough to sweep a broad hand beneath her, shoving everything to the side. She reached for him as his head was descending to take a nipple into his mouth. He soaked the silk fabric of her gown as he nipped at her and then sucked it into his devouring mouth. He squeezed her other breast at the same time, taking her to the edge of pain before backing off. She yelped in protest, but she was squirming under his handling of her body, need crashing through her veins like a tidal wave.

She thought she might come from the stimulation to her breasts alone, he backed off, flipped her over and laid her face-down across his desk. She heard the skirt of her dress tear as he yanked it up her legs and settled it on her hips. She knew what he was seeing, her lace thong, soaked through with her own juices.

She tried to twist around to look at him, but his hand landed on her back, shoving her forward. Then his other hand landed on her bare ass cheek, hard. Pain shot through her bottom and she yelped, attempting to claw her way back over the desk. He held her firm and continued spanking her, alternating cheeks until she was hot and panting… aroused.

He leaned over her back, his lips next to her ear. She felt his fingers against her ass as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. “You were a bad girl today, Vee. What do bad girls get?”

She gritted her teeth and pushed herself back against his cock as he was freeing, helpless against the need flooding through her. “Bad women get fucked!” she said, tensing against the next onslaught.

Sure enough, his hand fell firmly against her ass again, meting out the discipline he thought she deserved. “Bad girls get spanked,” he growled.

Vee had reached the point that she didn’t care. She wanted his hand striking her ass, she wanted his hands all over her body any way she could get them. If this agonizing, glorious feeling was the result, she would start purposely trying to earn these spankings. She would smuggle every damn person she could get her hands on off his estate.

Finally, the spanking stopped, leaving her ass hot and swollen, her pussy wet and needy. She didn’t have long to wait for relief though. He yanked the crotch of her thong to the side and sank his delicious cock deep. She yelled her pleasure for everyone to hear as he filled her aching pussy.

He slammed into her, rocking her hips against the desk. She brought her hands down to her sides and bent her elbows, lifting a little, trying to relieve the pressure. He took her hair in a fist and yanked her head back and to the side just enough that she could see his face hovering over her back. See his chest as he moved over her, slamming again and again, burying himself balls deep in each punishing thrust.

“What do bad girls get, Vee?” he asked, his accent strong, his voice guttural.

She let out a breathless laugh and said, “Bad women get the kingdom!”

He slammed into her so hard she would have been pushed forward across the desk if he wasn’t holding her hair, pulling it back toward him, forcing her to arch her chest, thrusting out her breasts.

“Bad girls get punished,” he snarled and continued to slam into her. His thrusts increased in tempo until she thought she really might break from his rough handling. Her pussy told her otherwise. It clenched him tight, pulling him deep, welcoming him. The orgasm ripped through her before she was ready. The crushing impact of her clit against the desk, coupled with the incredible way he was hammering into it sent her careening into the path of a beautiful orgasm. As she hurtled over her own peak he reached his, grunting his pleasure as he fucked into her, bathing her in his come. He pushed his elbow into the middle of her back while pulling her hair back toward him. He twisted her head until he could reach her lips, claiming them in a surprisingly soft kiss.

He released her almost as soon as he finished, laying her across the desk and pulling out of her. She heard the zip of his pants as he tucked himself back inside. She rolled to her side, gathering the tattered remnants of her nightgown around her bare legs and gazed up at him. Sotza, her husband. He was cold when he wanted to be, but hotly passionate around her, especially when she challenged his authority. He was brutal in his regime, but kind to her. Despite the provocation, despite the punishing sex, he hadn’t harmed a hair on her head, even when he was using it to yank her back toward him. He was incredible, and he belonged to her.

Instead of letting her bask in the post-orgasm glory he leaned over her, took her jaw in hand and forced her to look at him. “I let you get away with one drink, don’t do it again.”

“But you drink,” she pointed out, her voice husky from screaming.

“You don’t,” he said, his voice hard. “I’ll do what it takes to preserve who you are, Vee. Even if it means protecting you against yourself.”

“People change,” she whispered.

“Are you going to argue with me about this?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She bit her lip and stared at him for a few seconds thinking about pushing it. Then she grinned. “Depends, are you going to fuck me on your desk again if I do?”

He growled and reached for her, proving that he would indeed fuck her on his desk again, taking her on another, more leisurely, but no less satisfying, orgasmic trip. After, he gathered the shreds of her gown around her and pulled her into his arms, tucking the fabric so that she wasn’t showing anything indecent to the staff. He carried her through the house to their bedroom where he undressed her and tucked her naked into bed.

She propped an arm up, hand under her ear as she watched him undress, devouring his long, lean frame, roped in heavy muscles. Despite the multiple orgasms he’d just treated her to, her body heated once more, melting for her husband.

“Are you going to fuck me again, esposo?” she asked mischievously as he bent over and she got a nice view of his perfectly formed ass.

He straightened and gave her a stern look. “Mercy, Señora, this old man needs some rest first. If you keep this up I will think you are better at torture than me.”

She snorted. Then, completely by-passing his comment about torture, as she still wasn’t ready to go there yet, said, “If this is you as an old man then I’d hate to have experienced sex with the younger version.”

He crawled into the bed beside her and turned her over, pulling her against him so her ass was nestled against the cradle of his thighs. She settled down with a sigh.

“Only you can do this to me, Vee. I was never this way with other women.”

She reached back to smack him on the hip. “Now I get why you want me around. Sex on tap.”

He laughed and kissed her shoulder. “Peace, Vee. You are too perfect for me to think that about you.”

They fell silent for a few minutes. Vee’s thoughts turned to Raina and she desperately hoped she was safe. She’d decided that no communication was best, so no one could trace the girl. But now, Vee thought she might contact Diane in a few days. Just to make sure they landed safely and Raina was able to continue on her journey unmolested.

As if reading the direction of her thoughts, Sotza said quietly, “Mateo wants her, you know. He even asked if he could keep her. Weeks ago, before I brought you here. He’s going to be angry that she’s disappeared.” Vee glanced back at him over her shoulder, her expression pleading. He sighed, his lips tilting a little at the corner. “I suppose we can give her a head start. Slow him down. Perhaps I’ll give him the task of hunting and disposing of Garza. Dismantling the Garza empire should keep him busy for a while.”

“Thank you,” she said hoping he heard the wealth of sincerity in her tone.

“He will find her eventually.”

She smiled. “I know. He reminds me a little of you. That dogged determination to get what he wants. But I want Raina to experience life and all it has to offer before she gets pulled back into this.”

“I understand, cariño, you want her to have the things you missed out on.”

“Maybe,” she said softly. “I don’t feel like I’m missing anything anymore though.”

He ran his fingers lightly over the scar on her back, low down toward her waist. “You are a brave woman. Generous too.”

Vee shrugged her shoulder and continued to lay on her side, her face turned away from him. She enjoyed the way his fingers tickled down her back, it made her want to curl against him and purr. This kind of intimacy was new to her but definitely addicting.

“Giving my daughter life the first time was a difficult decision to make,” she said, her voice quiet. “Giving her life the second time was as easy as breathing. I didn’t have a choice. She would’ve died otherwise and I didn’t want to live in a world without her.”

He kissed between her shoulder blades and then rolled her over. Vee brought her hands up to cover her naked chest. He let her though he placed a hand possessively over the slight rise of her stomach.

“These are the things I want from you, my wife. The same devotion and loyalty you show a child that doesn’t know enough to be grateful of the sacrifices you’ve made.”

“You have it, Isaac,” she said without hesitation. “My loyalty, my life, everything. By letting my daughter go you’ve proved that I can be loyal to you without losing the things I want most.”

“Te amo, Elvira,” he whispered against the back of her neck.

She smiled. “I love you too, Issac. But you really need to never call me Elvira again. I know exactly where to shoot a person to give them maximum pain without much damage.”

He chuckled and leaned down to press his lips against hers, giving her one of his kisses that she knew she would crave forever.

Epilogue

Two years later

“Anny Pee!”

Vee looked up, startled as Sally hurtled toward her, chubby legs pumping faster than Vee thought a toddler should go. She reached out and scooped the baby up, settling her on her lap. She gave Sally a stern look and said, “I’m sorry, but did you just call me Aunty Pee? As in urine? Do you have any idea who you’re talking to, child? I could have you executed for such disrespect.”

Sally just giggled and grabbed at Vee’s long straight hair, burying her fingers in the fine strands. “That’s it, off with her head!” Vee yelped, laughing as she was forced to twist her head to ease the pressure on her scalp.

“I’m sorry, Vee!” Casey cried. She’d been following close behind her daughter and helped Vee extricate the tiny, but torturously effective hands. Vee sighed in relief as Sally was lifted from her lap and set free to terrorize the garden.

“Seriously though, did she just call me Pee? What are you teaching this child?”

Casey laughed and settled on the bench next to Vee, her sharp eyes following the trail of flower destruction as Sally did her best to tear up every one she could get her hands on. “She’s having a little difficulty with names, so she tends to rename people after her favourite things.”

Vee wrinkled her nose. “And she likes pee? That’s weird Casey. You know that’s weird, right?”

“She likes to go pee because she gets treats for going on the potty. She probably sees you as being just as awesome as those treats.”

“Nice save,” Vee said sarcastically. Then she pointed out, “You’re training your daughter like a dog, you know.”

Casey shrugged. “Whatever works.”

Vee felt a small pang. She’d missed these years with Raina. The good, the bad, the fun and funny. She watched over Raina from a distance, but she didn’t get to experience these moments. Maybe one day she would become a grandmother and get the chance to live the memories she missed with her own daughter.

“She calls Sotza, Uncle Toaster, only it sounds more like Untle Toata.”

Vee burst out laughing as she imagined the tiny human naming her stern, unyielding husband after a toaster. “It really is a miracle she’s survived this long.”

“Reyes would destroy the world if anything happens to her,” Casey pointed out. They both sobered as they imagined the far-reaching damage Reyes could cause if any harm came to the women in his life.

Vee understood. Sotza was exactly the same. In the two years that they’d been married he had become more overbearing in his desire to keep Vee from harm. She would have balked except he also treated her with respect. He kept her apprised of all the business he conducted, and after she’d learned the ropes, brought her on as an equal partner. It hadn’t been an easy transition moving from drugs to arms dealing, but she was a fast learner. It helped that Sotza was a patient and loving instructor. He listened to her opinions and, after he deemed her ready, allowed her to take on several negotiations. They found that the men they worked with often preferred her softer touch to his harsh, uncompromising way of doing business. The organization had benefitted twofold by her presence.

Married life suited them both. They rarely left Venezuela, spending most of their time either on the estate or the island. They preferred their home turf. When they did have to travel for business they always went together. They’d become inseparable. They worked side-by-side and lived as a unit. This marriage was nothing like any of her previous relationships. Sotza had even accompanied her on a shopping trip to Caracas, insisting they go together or not at all. She thought he would be bored out of his mind. Of course, he wasn’t. Somehow the man found pleasure in anything and everything that had to do with his wife. He gave her that small tilt of the lips as she tried on clothes and showed them to him. He offered his opinion, which of course matched hers, when she was looking at purses and shoes. He had been the perfect shopping companion.

After their trip into the capital Vee had approached him about the ridiculous high prices for food and basic necessities. Money had no meaning to them, it was endless. But it had meaning to the people of Venezuela, many of whom were starving. From talking with the staff, she knew that most of them saved every penny of their paychecks and sent the money home to their families. Sotza already had a bead on local politicians, engaging them in talks about funding for social programs. But at Vee’s insistence they started a charity that would make sure more people in more regions were fed. And if that didn’t work, they would use other parts of their organization to make sure people had the necessary paperwork to immigrate to neighboring countries if that was their wish.

Not every part of married life was perfect. Vee missed Raina terribly, but refused to have any contact in case it could be used to trace her. It was like having her heart stabbed for a second time, having to give her up at birth and then again just when they were developing a relationship. Raina’s absence caused tension between Vee and Mateo. He refused to forgive her for helping his woman escape. And she refused to regret that decision. Not for a single second. Every time her heart ached she would imagine what Raina was doing, what kind of experiences she was having. Knowing that Raina was free to make her own choices and that she had a good head on her was enough for Vee.

Her absent gaze fell on Sally who was crawling after a caterpillar. “Have you ever thought about having another one?” she asked Casey.

Casey seemed to think about it for a few seconds and then said, “Yes. I want one, and so does Reyes. But he’s terrified that I could have a stroke or something since I’m higher risk for those things. I think we probably will one day, but for now, we’re happy indulging our baby Llama.”

“Llama!” Vee burst out laughing.

Casey laughed too. “I wanted her pet name to be something native to Bolivia and there are llamas everywhere. We even have a herd that lives wild in our area.” Casey watched Vee for a moment and then said softly. “Have you thought of having another? It’s not too late, plenty of women have babies in their forties.”

“No,” she said quietly. “I’ll never have another child. I won’t bring another life into the mafia.”

“I understand,” Casey said, reaching out to grab Sally as she was about to squish the caterpillar. “It’s a bit hypocritical isn’t it? How we’ll take advantage of all the riches the mafia has to offer but despise the parts we don’t find appetizing.”

Vee thought about it. About her beautiful garden, even nicer house filled with all the staff she could ever want. Her private jet, her private island. The clothes, the jewels, everything. Was it worth it?

“We’re the women of the mafia, Casey, we were born to this. We didn’t have a choice. We may as well take advantage of the privileges, they help us get through the awful parts.” She looked down at Casey’s scarred hand, which was splayed across Sally’s back, holding her in place. The raised ‘H’ would be with her forever, a reminder of her dead husband’s cruelty. “We are the children of mobsters. You were born to the mob, I was born to it. Gina and her unborn child are mafia.” She named Casey’s cousin, currently in Bolivia with her husband, Alejandro. He wouldn’t allow his young wife to travel while pregnant or she would have been right there on the bench with them. Vee continued, “Sally was born to it and so was Raina. She’ll have to come home eventually, to face her roots. I’ve made my peace with that.”

“That sounds so bleak,” Casey said, her voice catching a little. “True, but bleak.” She stared at her daughter, allowing the horror of Vee’s words to sink in. Sally would always be mafia, she would never be free.

“Maybe,” Vee agreed, turning to look fully at her best friend. She reached out to trace a finger over the brand on Casey’s neck, the tiny feminine crown. A matching masculine one adorned Reyes’ throat. “But we’re the Queens. Bad or good, right or wrong, we rule our Kings and everything around them.”

“Amen,” Casey breathed.

Deciding it was best to lighten the mood, they changed topics and played with Sally a little longer in the garden. The weather was warmer than usual, heating the paving stones, so the women sat on the ground, Sally tottering around them giggling, carefree in her childish innocence.

“Vee,” Sotza’s voice reached out to her and she turned to look as he strode toward them, Reyes at his side. The two men together were utterly breathtaking. Handsome, hard and dominant. Sotza was taller and more regal than Reyes, but Reyes was broader, more muscular. Both men exuded that casual confidence that came with their positions in the world. The top of their respective regimes.

“You know… it was my husband that decided to send Sotza to Miami, to go after you,” Casey murmured.

“And who suggested he might be a good fit for my particular situation?” Vee replied, turning back to eye her friend.

Casey grinned unabashedly. “It worked out, right? You seem happy to me.”

“That is a pretty deadly game of match-making you played there, Señora Reyes. You couldn’t have known he would fall in love with me.”

“I never had a single doubt,” Casey whispered as the men approached.

Although Reyes and Casey had come to Venezuela for a visit, they were there first and foremost for business. The four of them were in the process of creating a strong alliance that would consolidate power throughout South America. Both Vee and Casey joined in most of the negotiations. The major debate among the group, once the alliance was set in stone, was what to do about Mexico, now that Nicolas Garza was dead. Hunted down and taken out by Mateo, under Sotza’s orders. Without Domingo or Garza heading operations, Mexico was becoming even more desperately violent as men fought to take over the shreds of the Garza cartel.

The next order of business was Miami. The hub for all underworld traffic on the East coast of the United States was in chaos. The region needed strong leadership and they needed to find someone they trusted for the job.

Vee stood, brushing her skirt off. She cringed inside, side-eyeing the serious damage Sally had done to Sotza’s precious garden. She was definitely going to hear about it later. How she’d allowed a toddler to storm the shrubbery without once lifting a finger to stop the destruction. She opened her mouth to speak, to pardon the small creature, when Sotza took her arm in a tight grip.

“Isaac –” she started to say, but he interrupted her, directing his words toward Casey. Reyes had stopped beside his wife and crouched down to retrieve his daughter, holding her delighted squirming body against his chest.

“Please excuse us, Señora Reyes, I must speak to my wife. It is urgent.”

“Of course,” Casey said, her voice holding some confusion and worry.

Sotza nodded toward Reyes and turned on his heel, striding toward the house. He by-passed the cobbled paths and walked straight across the grass, something she’d never seen him do. Even when he was in a hurry to go down to his prison and interrogate someone. He always respected his immaculate lawns and gardens.

“Isaac!” Vee gasped, trying to keep up with his long strides and failing. “My shoes!”

Her steel-spiked heels were sinking into the grass with each step. When she tried to walk on the ball of her foot instead of the heel she started to pitch forward as he dragged her. He glanced back at her, seeing her struggle and stopped. She was about to bend over and remove the shoes, leaving her to walk barefoot through the grass when he scooped her up into his arms and continued walking, his pace even faster now.

“What’s going on? Is it something to do with Reyes?” she asked worriedly. The two men got along well enough, but there was still some tension. They were both leaders, both loners. It was always a possibility that they could clash. But the past few days seemed to dispel some of that tension. They were far from friends, but for their wives sakes, they had become friendly. Vee didn’t know what she would do if they went to war.

Sotza stopped walking. He looked down at her. His expression was grim. Her heart thumped hard in her chest and she knew without words that something terrible had happened.

“Raina?” she asked, a chill crawling across her, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

He nodded.

Vee let out a desperate sound. She couldn’t help it. Raina was her only vulnerability. The one thing that could destroy her. She clutched Sotza tight, burying her head against his chest and gasping hard to swallow the tears. “J-just tell me.”

“She’s alive,” he said, his voice quiet. “But she’s been shot. Mateo is with her.”

Vee struggled to bring herself under control. Sotza kneeled with her, holding her cradled against him until she managed to leash her emotions. She leaned back in his arms. Eyes glittering like blue diamonds. “Do you remember when you told me if you loved me I should ask for the world and see what happened?”

“Si, mi amor, I forget nothing we have said to each other.”

“I want it,” she said, her voice husky. “I want my daughter to come home and I want the people responsible. I want the world to burn until I get those things.”

He watched her, dark eyes glowing with love and vengeance. “Consider it done.”

THE END

Born a Queen

Book 3

Contents

Prologue

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

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

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Epilogue

Coming soon…

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Bonus: Fear in Her Eyes

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About the Author

“They’re dying to kill

And living to die

Snub nose, headshots

If you touch anything that’s mine.”

Amore, Pitbull & Leona Lewis

Prologue

Mateo lit a cigar and leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees and allowing fatigue to settle over him like a cloak. He was tired, but it was a good kind of tired. It’d been a long two years. Mateo acted as second-in-command, enforcer, and diplomat to the Butcher, Isaac Sotza; flying around the world, using the might of the Venezuelan cartel to convince both friends and competitors that they needed to work with the Butcher instead of against him.

Mateo had also taken on a special project, one that was personal to Sotza. Something that he only entrusted Mateo to complete. Hunting the Mexican cartel boss, Nicolás Garza. Mateo looked down at the bloody heap that used to be Nico Garza. After several long seconds, the mess of bones and gore that used to be his chest lifted and dropped. Garza was still alive.

Good. Mateo wasn’t quite done with him yet. He had strict orders from Sotza to prolong the suffering. This man had shot the Butcher’s wife. Though it was only her arm, and she’d recovered in a matter of days, it didn’t matter. In this world, the underworld, such insults couldn’t be allowed to pass unchallenged.

Mateo was impressed with Garza. Impressed with his ability to run and hide. It had taken twenty-three months for Mateo to finally hunt him to ground. And disappointingly, Garza’s second-in-command and lover, Desiree, wasn’t with him. Maybe Garza knew Mateo was closing in and hid her somewhere, drawing Mateo’s focus onto himself to protect her. It was a noble attempt, but ultimately useless. Mateo would find her too and finish the woman who helped try to bring down the Venezuelan cartel. Despite his dislike of killing women, Mateo would do his job.

Nico let out a moan. Or maybe it was more of a gurgle since he didn’t have any teeth or a tongue.

“Are you waking up?” Mateo asked in surprise.

Garza had more stamina than Mateo had given him credit for. Not that Mateo minded, he liked playing before the kill. It was something he had in common with his boss. It helped ease the ever-lurking darkness staining his soul. Death and suffering grounded him in a way nothing else could.

Nothing else except a pair of sharp blue eyes attached to the only woman that he’d ever looked at twice. She consumed his thoughts. She was his perfection, though she was far from perfect. Her quick wit, her barbed tongue, her fiery temper. It all belonged to him. Raina would be his prize for completing this mission. Sotza had promised and the Butcher didn’t break his promises. He agreed to give Mateo two things if Mateo took out Sotza’s enemy; his stepdaughter and the American east coast.

Now, Mateo was ready to collect.

He bent over and pressed his lit cigar into Garza’s now empty eye socket, putting it out. God forbid he start a fire and be forced to leave before his job was completely done. He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen into camera mode. He pointed it at the dying man, “Smile, Garza.” He took several shots and sent them to his boss. He’d get rid of the phone with the evidence once he was finished.

He stood, stretched his back and cracked his knuckles before reaching into his pocket for the gloves he wore when he worked. He stared down, not a flicker of emotion over what he was doing except for a sense of satisfaction over a job well done. He’d managed to keep Garza alive for five days of torture. If he was at home, at the compound, in the ‘shed’ as they called the building where they detained prisoners, he’d be able to keep Garza alive for weeks.

As it was, Mateo would have to finish up soon. He was hearing some concerning gossip coming out of Italy, Raina’s current country of residence. He needed to get to her, extract her from whatever the hell she’d managed to get herself into and then take her home. Not to Venezuela, but to Miami. Their new home.

“Okay, Garza,” Mateo announced. “Let’s finish this.”

Since Garza was close to the end, Mateo decided it was time for his signature. He picked up a pair of garden shears he’d set aside on the table and bent to his prey. Gently he picked up Garza’s mangled hand and worked the shears between his fingers. He snipped Garza’s trigger finger off and tossed it onto the table. The other man didn’t say anything, but his gurgled screams spoke eloquently.

1

It was Raina’s twenty-first birthday. She wanted to go out and party, dance all night, make friends, flirt, maybe take a guy home if she really felt like it. She’d never done that. Never taken a guy home before. In fact, she’d never even had sex. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. She really, really did. But life had thrown a major curveball at her two years ago and she’d been running ever since. This time, it appeared she was running into a dead end.

Raina didn’t think she was going to get to party for her birthday. No, she was pretty sure she was going to die. She peered out into the dark night from the window of her rented room. She was on the fourth floor of a very old building. One that was sinking. But then, all the buildings in Venice were sinking.

Italy was her ninth country in two years. When she left Venezuela, leaving the mother she just met behind, she went on the run. She had to assume there were people after her, or at least watching. Sometimes she would come home from an evening out and she would have that eerie feeling that someone had been in her apartment. She suspected dear old stepdad, Isaac Sotza, the Venezuelan mob boss, had people keeping an eye on her. He probably knew where to find her from the moment she left his estate.

But did his second-in-command? Her mind flashed back to her time in Venezuela. The brief month before her mother ushered her out of the country in a daring escape. Mateo Gutierrez. Cartel to the marrow of his bones. Sotza’s right hand man and her constant shadow while she was in Sotza’s care.

Mateo was everything she hated in a man, arrogant, dangerous, rude. But he was also indecently attractive. And for some reason he’d wanted her. She wondered if the two years since she last saw him had dimmed his regard. Somehow, she doubted it. Even in her brief time observing the mafia, she noticed the guys didn’t let things go. They held onto their grudges, their obsessions. She suspected those qualities were what made the men so hard and so successful.

Raina flitted around her apartment, shoving her possessions into a small suitcase. She didn’t have much. She travelled light because she never knew when she’d have to pick up and run. She had done it before, but never in this much of a hurry. That was because she’d done something stupid. She crossed the wrong people and it was only a matter of time before they found out and came after her. She suspected sooner rather than later.

And she was right. Seconds after that thought entered her head, as she was reaching for her purse, preparing to leave her tiny apartment for good, the door crashed open. The only thing that saved her from being shot in the heart as she stood gaping at the man who kicked the door in was the fact that he kicked it so hard it rebounded off the wall and slammed shut again. The bullet meant for her thudded into the heavy wooden door.

Raina dropped her purse and ran for the only place in her apartment with a door that would close and lock. Her bathroom. As she ran, reaching for the frame, her front door was flung open again and the room sprayed in bullets. She felt a tearing, hot pain hit her in the back. The force of the bullet flung her into the bathroom. She landed hard on her knees. She didn’t have time to assess herself. She rolled onto her back and kicked the door shut, reaching up to lock it. Thank god these old Italian buildings had thick doors. Bullets thunked into the wood as she crawled toward the bathtub and dragged herself inside.

“Fuck!” she snarled, reaching behind her to touch the spot on her back. Her hand came away covered in blood. She really hoped the bullet hadn’t taken out her only good kidney. Even if it didn’t, the blood loss for someone like her could be catastrophic.

She had to get out before the man who shot her got inside the bathroom. She’d picked this place because it had a window in the washroom with a fire escape. She was going to have to get out of the bathtub though, since the window was over the toilet. She took a deep breath, eyed the bathroom door, which was still in one piece and flung herself out of the tub. As she was kneeling on the toilet reaching for the latch, she realized there were no more sounds hitting the door. Had they given up on coming after her?

That didn’t make sense. The front door was thicker than the bathroom door and they’d had no problem breaking through that one. She stopped, her hands hovering against the window, and listened. At first there was nothing, and then she heard muffled thumping sounds. A man shouted, but it was cut off. What were they doing out there, killing each other?

Raina wasn’t going to wait around to find out. Whatever was happening it couldn’t be good. And she needed medical attention right away.

She turned back to the window. A scream leapt from her and she fell off the toilet as bullets crashed through the window. A man had come up the fire escape to cover the window and she’d come face to face with him. She huddled on the floor as small as she could get and covered her arms with her head.

She knew she was a dead woman when she finally heard the sound she’d been expecting. The bathroom door crashed open, smashing against the bathtub. She tensed, waiting for that awful hot tearing sensation to rip through her again as she was shot full of holes. Instead, she heard two muffled shots and a shout from the balcony.

When the seconds ticked by and she was still alive she chanced a peek through her arms. Mateo Gutierrez was standing over top of her; tall, scowling, eyes and gun trained on the window.

“Mateo!” she gasped.

“Raina,” he acknowledged grimly and looked down at her. He reached for her, dragging her off the floor.

She groaned in pain but was forced to follow as he pulled her out of the bathroom and into the main room. She gaped at the two dead men decorating her place. They hadn’t stood a chance. Probably thought they were going to kill a helpless woman. They would have no idea that she had an entire cartel at her back and, apparently, at her disposal.

“Jacket, shoes, purse. Hurry up,” he barked at her.

Raina didn’t pause. Her only chance of survival was with this man. She dragged a leather coat on, flinching in pain as it stuck to her back. She bent over to tie up her running shoes, but as she straightened, dizziness engulfed her. Mateo caught her before she hit the floor, grabbing the part of her back that had been shot. She cried out, clutching his arm to shove him away.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“Shot,” she muttered.

He turned her around and lifted her jacket and shirt. He muttered something she suspected was a nasty swear word in Spanish.

“Is it bad?” she asked, peeking at him over her shoulder.

“No,” he growled, and then picked her up in his arms.

This was the second time he’d done this. The first time he’d been kidnapping her from her university campus. This time? She didn’t know. He was definitely saving her life, but she suspected there was more to him being here. The timing was too convenient.

“Mateo?” she whispered as he glanced into the hallway before striding out her door.

“Si, Raina?” He took the stairs two at a time, careful to hold her tight against his chest so he wouldn’t jar her wound.

“Thanks for coming for me.” She had to say the words in case she didn’t get another chance.

He paused for a moment on the second-floor landing and looked down at her, his dark eyes hot with anger, possession and longing. “I will follow you into hell, chica.”

“Let’s hope not,” she sighed right before passing out.

2

“Fucking stupid,” Mateo muttered darkly.

Raina gritted her teeth and sat as still as she could while he worked to patch her up. She’d woken up in a room she didn’t recognize. It was filled with empty cages and smelled like antiseptic. Mateo explained to her that he brought her to an animal hospital that was closed for the night. He couldn’t risk taking her to a regular hospital, not with the Italian Cosa Nostra hot on their heels.

“My people are looking for ways to get us out of the country. Airspace is being carefully monitored, as are trains and buses. The family you chose to cross have their fingers in everything.” His voice was devoid of emotion, but she could feel the accusation and anger swirling around him.

“I didn’t choose to cross anyone.” She flinched as he pressed an alcohol-soaked gauze pad to the wound on her back. She was sitting on a metal exam table, leaning forward with her back to Mateo. He’d pushed her shirt up. “I was ordered to work on documents for Antonio Savino. Not my fault the asshole didn’t want any loose ends.”

His hand dropped to squeeze her hip. “Watch your fucking language, Raina.”

She twisted around to look at him with a laugh. “You watch yours, gangster.”

Mateo’s sharp gaze softened. He reached up and pushed Raina’s pink glasses up her nose. “I forgot to say happy birthday,” he said softly.

Raina’s smile faded as her heart fluttered at his unexpected touch. “I was sort of passed out. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, it is,” he said seriously, then got back to work.

It felt good to be near Mateo again. It was as though the years faded and they were back in Sotza’s garden together in Venezuela, Raina trying to read a book while Mateo stalked and bullied her. Tried to get her to go back inside where he deemed it was safer.

Two years ago, Sotza had ordered Mateo to kidnap Raina and bring her to Venezuela to meet her birth mother, Elvira. As much as Raina had resented being taken against her will, she didn't actually hate her time there. In fact, she loved a lot of it. Venezuela was beautiful. Sotza's mansion was high up in the mountains; practically a natural fortress. She definitely wanted to go back someday.

But not today. Not tomorrow, and not anytime soon. She was enjoying life too much. As nice as it was to see Mateo again, she wasn’t ready to go back to that life permanently.

Raina suspected that Mateo wanted permanent. He was older than her, he was looking to settle. He was far more serious. And when he looked at her... he stole her breath. He made her heart pound. He terrified her. The things that he wanted from her were not things that she was willing to give him yet. She didn't want a home, a family and babies. She didn’t want the mafia.

Maybe one day, but not today.

Yes, Italy might have been a mistake. It would have been a fatal mistake if Mateo hadn't stepped in. But that didn't mean the rest of her time on the run had been a mistake; she'd had so many new experiences and made wonderful memories. She'd visited the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower, gone dancing in Edinburgh, met a hacker in Jakarta and learned some awesome new digital printing techniques that would keep her up to date with her forging business. She wasn't willing to give that up. Not yet.

“You been taking your medications properly?” The question was so unexpected, spoken in a gruff tone of voice, that she almost asked him what he meant. Then she realized he was talking about her immunosuppressants; her antirejection drugs from the kidney transplant she’d had when she was twelve.

She pulled her purse closer and nodded. “Yes, I never forget them.”

He gave her a piercing look. “Be sure that you don’t.”

Her temper flared. “Don’t treat me like a child, Mateo. I’m well aware of the sacrifice made to me by my mother. I wouldn’t be alive if she hadn’t donated her kidney.”

“Wasn’t talking about your mother. I care that you survive, and you need that kidney to survive. You only have one functioning kidney left, you need to be more careful. Stop being so reckless with your health. The bullet could’ve easily taken out the kidney, killed you.”

She twisted on the table to glare down at him where he’d pulled a chair up to the table to work on her. “Thanks for the reminder, I nearly forgot.”

He tilted his head until his eyes met hers. They were a beautiful velvet brown, but serious. “You won’t be given the opportunity to endanger yourself again.”

Raina didn’t respond. Mateo was convinced she didn’t take her health seriously. She wouldn’t convince him otherwise until he saw her taking care of herself, taking her pills regularly, eating healthy foods, exercising. But that wasn’t in the cards, at least not right now.

"How do you plan on getting us out of here?" she asked.

Not that she actually intended to go with him, but talking to him, having him talk to her, distracted her from the pain.

When she had woken up, he told her that he managed to pull the bullet out while she was passed out. Thank the fucking gods, because the patch job on her bullet wound hurt so bad, she couldn't imagine anyone digging around inside while she was awake.

Raina was used to pain. She had gone through some of the most painful treatments of her life as a child. Pretty much anything else, including a gunshot wound, was child's play compared to a kidney transplant.

"We'll probably drive out," he said. "Then take an airplane from a neighboring country. It’s the only way I can think of to get you out safely without the Italians coming after us."

She smiled to herself, looking down at the table that she was sitting on. She tapped her fingernail against the stainless steel. "Yes, my safety. It's the most important thing, isn't it," she said drily.

They all wanted to treat her like a precious pampered princess. In reality, she was raised a farm girl, became a college drop-out thanks to Mateo and Sotza, and was now a career criminal, making some of the world's best forged documents. It was almost laughable that these tough guys wanted to lock her up in a tower and surround her with guards and bubble wrap.

He grunted. "You haven't seen what your stepdaddy is capable of. Yes, little girl, your safety is the most important thing here."

That comment sobered her. As much as she loved her family, she couldn't forget for a single minute that they were involved in organized crime. And that some of them, Mateo and Sotza most of all, were determined to push her into the life too.

Her mother was equally as determined to keep her out. Raina was on her mother's side. She couldn't imagine spending her life that way. She had too much to live for, too much she hadn't seen or done yet. The mafia felt like a cage, she just couldn't do it.

"So we drive out," she echoed his words. "Sounds good."

She tried to sound listless and pathetic as she thought of ways to escape. She didn't think Mateo would be overly vigilant with her right now. He'd come to her rescue; he wouldn't expect her to run away. Not in her current shape.

It took another half hour before Mateo finished with her. He cleaned the wound, stitched it shut, taped gauze over it, then wrapped more gauze around her middle, holding everything in place. She sucked in a breath as his knuckles brushed the bare skin of her belly, burning a path of sensation where he touched. Mateo didn’t seem to notice. He was quick, calm and professional.

He helped her put her shirt back on, rolling it over her head and then one at a time pushing her arms through the arm holes. Raina wrinkled her nose at the dried blood all over the shirt, but she didn’t have an alternative.

Mateo gently slid her closer and helped her stand, taking her hand in his and easing her off the table. He didn’t back away immediately, just held her loosely in his arms. Raina leaned in closer, enjoying the human contact. It felt good being held by him, feeling his strength against her body. She felt safe.

For a brief moment she considered staying with him. Allowing him to take her home. She’d come to know him well enough, from their time in Venezuela and some of the things her mother had told her about him, to understand that he was a man with integrity. Though he was a mob enforcer, he held himself to a standard of ethics. It was a twisted kind of ethics, where murder was okay, but lying was wrong.

If he took her home, if she allowed the seemingly inevitable progression of their relationship to continue, she knew he would take good care of her. Forever. It was a thought that was almost irresistible.

But so was the lure of the whole wide world at her feet. And she wasn’t willing to give it all up to become a young bride. Not yet.

Taking advantage of the moment and the fact that Raina wasn’t pushing him away, Mateo touched her lightly, running his fingers from her waist up her arms. Tingles ran up and down her sides even though he was touching her through her shirt. She ignored the blatant chemistry, stepping to the side and breaking his hold. She didn't have time for that right now.

Mateo picked up her leather coat and held it open for her. She turned around giving him her back and put her arms out while he carefully slid the sleeves on and tugged it over her shoulders. She groaned as she twisted and her back twinged.

He put a hand on her shoulder and said in her ear, "I'm sorry, it's going to hurt for a while."

"You know what it feels like to get shot?" At first the question was said with sarcasm, but then she realized given his profession he might actually know what it felt like.

Mateo confirmed her suspicion. “Si, I do."

Raina forgot her dilemma for a moment. “When were you shot? Where were you shot?"

He gave her a long look. "Now you're interested in me?"

If only he knew. Raina was always interested in him. Not a day had gone by in the past two years that she hadn’t thought of him. Especially when she was alone in her bedroom, late at night, remembering each and every encounter with him. The way he’d looked, smelled, sounded. Those memories had kept her close company.

She shrugged. "I guess we finally have something in common."

He pinched her chin between his fingers and tilted her face up to his. He towered over her. She wished she wasn't so short. She hated looking up to virtually everyone she spoke to. "We got plenty in common, little girl. And once we’re back home you're going to have all the time in the world to get to know me better."

That last comment jarred her back to reality. No, she wasn't, because she was getting the hell out of there.

She scooped up her purse and pretended to walk with him to the door, but before they reached it, she grabbed his arm and stopped him. "I have to go to the bathroom."

He glanced around the room and then shook his head. "You can wait until we get to the hotel."

"I have to pee right now, Mateo. I've had to go for a while, but, well, the hole in my back sort of took precedence."

His face hardened but he glanced around the room again then opened the clinic door and growled to one of his men, “We’ll be right out, get the car started."

Taking her arm in a firm grip he walked through the clinic, mindful not to jostle her too much. He found the bathroom door, pushed it open and looked inside.

"You expecting to find shooters in the toilet?" she asked sarcastically.

"I haven't stayed alive this long by getting lazy." He opened the door wider for her to go in and then closed the door behind her.

Raina turned the water on so he wouldn't be able to hear through the door. She surreptitiously locked the door, careful to slide the bolt as slowly as possible so it wouldn't click and alert him to what she was doing. She breathed a sigh of relief. There was a decent sized window in the bathroom, most likely because no one expected a person to crawl through it in an animal clinic. She was about to test that theory.

But first, she really did have to pee. She did her business quickly, washed her hands in the running water and grabbed her purse. She slid the window open as delicately and quietly as possible while still trying to be speedy.

It was a bitch crawling through that window with a gunshot wound. She tried to do it without pulling any stitches, but a sharp pain went through her ribcage when she was forced to drop a few feet from the window to the ground. She hit hard and almost lost her balance but managed to catch hold of the side of the building. She gasped in pain and reached around to touch her back. She brought her fingers up in front of her face, but it was too dark to see if there was any fresh blood. Hopefully she hadn't torn the stitches.

She glanced around and didn't see anyone nearby. All of Mateo’s men were at the front of the building waiting for them. No one expected her to try to escape.

She melted into the shadows, running as quickly as possible while trying to be invisible to anyone who looked. As she left the scene, her quick brain came up with a few possibilities of what she could do next. Staying in Italy wasn't an option. But leaving Italy was going to be really difficult on her own with the Italian mafia after her.

One very stupid plan kept popping into her head as she mulled over the possibilities. Perhaps it was time to finally use her stepfather's name, show the Italians why it was a colossal mistake to fuck with a Sotza.

3

“This is a bad idea,” Raina muttered to herself. “This is such a bad idea and I’m definitely going to get myself shot… again.”

She didn't have a choice though; she was going to have to dig deep, find her guts and find a way into this nightclub.

The nightclub, Banditos, was an exclusive invitation-only social establishment. And Raina did not have an invitation. However, she did need to speak to the man who owned the club along with half the city. The father of the man who tried to have her killed.

Raina forced her shoulders back and stood straighter. Pain shot through her back and abdomen and she nearly bent over in agony. She reached out blindly, using the wall of the alley next to the nightclub to steady herself. She took long deep breaths, in through her nose and out through her mouth, until the waves of dizziness passed. She had no choice, she had to go inside. She straightened her jacket and ran her fingers through her hair, combing it first and then fluffing it, trying to give herself a sexier appearance.

Though she felt like a corpse warmed up, she figured she could still pull off sexy. She was young, she was confident, and she was determined.

She approached the doorman. "I need to meet with Signore Savino please."

The bouncer eyed her up with interest, but his cold dark gaze was shuttered. His massive body blocked the doorway, making it impossible for her to dart around him.

"Better get out of here," the bouncer said with a wave of his hand. "The boss likes blondes and you’re too delicate for what he'd have in mind."

Raina was insulted that the bouncer assumed she couldn't take care of herself. She might look delicate but in reality, she was hell on wheels. Just ask her parents. Any of them.

"Tell him Raina…" she hesitated. She'd never invoked this name before. She loved her adopted parents and she was more than happy to have the last name Duncan. But Duncan wasn't going to get her into an establishment like this. "Tell him Raina Sotza is here."

"You don't hear real well, do you – " The bouncer started to speak and then stopped himself, thinking for a few seconds. "The Butcher? That Sotza?"

"My stepfather," she said truthfully. The fact was it didn't matter if Sotza was her birth father or her stepfather, any relation of Sotza’s had automatic protection.

The bouncer's eyes bulged as he took her in, connecting enough dots to realize exactly who she was. Sotza’s relationship with Vee Montana had rocked the underworld. Two titans, first colliding, then falling in love and rising up to rule the Venezuelan cartel had caused waves the world over.

"Please follow me," the bouncer said formally.

He led her through the entrance and down a hall, his big body blocking her view. They reached a door on the other end, which was blocked by another very large man. Her bouncer said a few words to the other one, jerking his thumb back towards the entrance door, indicating the man should go take over. Then he led her through the nightclub itself. A beautiful and gaudy piece of art that must’ve cost a fortune to build and decorate. Although, if the crowd was anything to go by, the nightclub likely brought in plenty of revenue. Maybe it doubled as a front for Savino’s other operations.

As Raina was looking around with curiosity, her eyes caught on someone she feared she would see there. Antonio Savino. The moment her eyes landed on him, he looked up and caught sight of her. His face reflected shock for a few seconds, then anger. Raina took a step closer to the uncertain protection of the bouncer as Antonio hurtled toward them.

“You!” he snarled, trying to shove past the bouncer to get at her.

“Surprised to see me?” she asked tauntingly.

She tried not to look as pale as she felt. If he didn’t know she’d been injured in the attack, she didn’t want him to find out.

“I’m going to fucking – ” he started to threaten her, but the bouncer stepped between them.

“I’m taking her to meet with your father.”

The look on Antonio’s face was almost worth the gunshot wound in her back. Part terror and part impotent rage.

Antonio turned to the bouncer and growled in a low voice, “Give her to me. She’s an ex-girlfriend. I’ll take care of her and make sure she doesn’t come back to cause more trouble.”

The bouncer wasn’t fazed at all. Maybe he was used to dealing with Antonio. “I’m taking her to see your father. If you want her, you can negotiate with him.” He took Raina’s arm and walked away, dismissing Antonio. Raina decided that this moment was one of the most satisfying in her life.

As they approached the chained off VIP area, her personal bouncer said, "Stay here," and pointed at a spot on the floor, then strode away. Raina glanced at the spot, amused. Did he actually expect her to stand exactly where he put her? Raina trailed after him, though she gave him a wide berth. After all he was a very large man and she had plenty to lose.

Raina stopped when the bouncer stopped. She stood waiting about fifteen feet away as he bent over to speak into a man's ear. The man appeared to be in his 50’s and was decently good-looking. Cassie, Raina’s best friend, would call him a silver fox. He wore a tailored suit, dark grey with a blood red tie and handkerchief in his pocket. His dark grey hair was slicked back and he wore rings on several of his fingers. He had that look about him; the one she was beginning to recognize from all the mobsters she had dealt with. A hard, cold, dead look. It sent a chill straight through her.

She lifted her chin. It didn't matter. She’d lived a lifetime in only twenty-one years. She was a fighter. She wasn't about to let one scary ass man stop her from forging ahead and taking care of herself, the way she'd always done.

The Italian’s head jerked up once the bouncer was finished speaking. He stared at her, at first in shock, and then with something closer to speculation. He was sizing her up, trying to figure out why she was there, in his town, alone. Without them saying a word to each other he would know that she was vulnerable. She was voluntarily walking into his lair knowing that he could easily have her killed. She was banking on her stepfather's name to keep Signore Savino from doing that.

Raina walked forward, adding some swagger to her step, trying to project an air of both confidence and femininity. She sensed he would respect both, and in this moment, she needed the man on her side.

"Signore Savino, thank you for seeing me."

He tilted his head toward her, acknowledging her words. Though they both knew that he had not agreed to see her, that she had pushed her way into his nightclub using the only weapon she had; her connection to Sotza.

"I have information about your son."

Raina slid into the booth. The Italian raised an eyebrow at her and then lifted his drink, some kind of amber liquid in a crystal glass, and took a long sip.

Instead of asking her about his son, he said, "What do you drink?"

Raina’s head was swimming from the pain in her back, from lack of food and from anxiety. She was not about to add alcohol to that mix. "Nothing for me, thank you."

He stiffened noticeably and flicked a finger at her. "In my bar, you drink. If you drink with me, I will listen. Otherwise you leave." He glanced to the side where his son was pacing outside the VIP area like an angry tiger.

Raina's heart pounded. If she left without the promise of his protection, Antonio would pick her up and finish her off. And if she somehow managed to slip past Antonio, she would have Mateo to contend with. She needed Savino on her side.

She licked her lips and thought for second. What should she order? Because of her kidney, she rarely drank. She really didn't even like alcohol. She thought about ordering a glass of red wine, which was slightly more tolerable than the hard stuff, but she suspected that Giovanni would respect her more if she had a real drink with him.

She nodded her head. "Vodka, straight up, with ice please."

There, now she sounded like a gangster. The Italian looked amused, as though he knew that she didn’t drink. He beckoned a nearby waitress over, a tall thin woman with sky-high heels and a skintight black dress. He gave her Raina’s order and then waved her away, turning his full focus on Raina.

"Now, you tell me what mio figlio has been up to." All of the amusement drained from his expression, leaving behind an utterly terrifying man.

Raina felt more than compelled to tell him the truth, she felt real bone deep fear. For the first time since entering the nightclub it occurred to her that she may not survive this conversation. Perhaps brazen wasn't the way to go with a man like this. He was the Italian Godfather for a reason.

"Your son hired me to create documents for him," she said honestly. There was no point beating around the bush. “A fake passport and driver’s license.”

"I have a forger in my employ; I would know if my son were looking for documents. You must have mistaken him for someone else," Savino said dismissively.

“Your son is Antonio Savino, though the false name he chose was Antony Ricci.” Savino’s eyes narrowed when she mentioned his son’s alias, as though he’d heard it before. Raina proceeded to give Savino every detail of her encounter with his son, up to and including the shooting.

Antonio had insisted on knowing who would be doing the forgery, he insisted on telling her why he needed the forgery and he'd used his reputation to try to intimidate her. Of course, given who her parents were, intimidation was the last thing she felt. Annoyance, disgust and amusement had been her top emotions. She didn’t like being bullied into work. Antonio’s arrogance had left a bad taste in her mouth, but his threat to make her life in Italy difficult, and the tidy stack of bills he placed in front of her, had convinced her to do the job despite her bad first impression.

When Raina stopped speaking, Savino looked convinced that it actually had been his son that’d asked for her services. He demanded to know everything Antonio had said to her.

"He thinks your policy on the Malta underground is weak. He believes you’re wrong not to pursue more territory and he’s decided that he’ll go in and do it himself."

Savino’s fist came down so hard that the table jumped, knocking over his drink. Raina sort of wished her drink had arrived first, but it arrived shortly after. The waitress set it down in front of her and, sensing the tension in the air, scurried away as fast as she could on five-inch heels.

"Why the fuck would my son defy me in such a way? He knows my plan for Malta. I will have him skinned alive.” When Savino turned to scan the club, Antonio was conspicuously absent.

A shiver went through Raina and she wondered if Savino was serious. Would he kill his own son over such an infraction? And more important, would he kill the messenger?

"If it helps, I believe he was doing it, in part, to please you. As though he wanted to lay a lucrative win at your feet," she hurried to tell him. "I think he thought if he took on such a feat and was successful, you might be willing to give him more responsibility. More power."

She wasn't lying to the older man to pacify him. His son had spoken to her a lot. She didn't know if he'd been driven by arrogance, or the need to unload something off his chest to a person that didn't know his family. Whatever it was though, he'd given her the ammunition she needed to speak to his father. And she didn't have a single qualm about throwing Antonio under the bus like this. When he had her shot, he declared war with the youngest Sotza.

"And why are you telling me all this?" Annoyance coloured his voice. He clearly didn't like having anything out of his control and Raina was placing a cluster fuck at his feet.

"I think your son realized that he said too much to me, gave me something I could use against him. If he knew my background, he probably would've realized I would never do that. I have too much to lose too. He sent three men after me, tried to have me killed."

"And yet you're not dead," the Italian remarked coldly.

He didn't sound as sorry as she rather thought he should, considering his asshole of a son tried to murder her. "I was shot in the back earlier today," she snapped. "A friend of mine came to my rescue and shot your son’s men."

Savino frowned. "And your friend is?"

She hesitated, unsure if she should tell Savino about the threat that lurked in his city, taking the element of surprise from Mateo if Savino decided to take exception to his presence. Raina decided it was best to be honest. She had too much to lose. "Mateo Gutierrez."

Savino couldn't hide the surprise on his face. "Sotza’s second."

She could see the moment he realized how much trouble Raina was bringing to his door. "So, Mateo Gutierrez is spending time in my city, attempting to collect the Sotza princess. And you chose not to stay with him? A man more than capable of protecting you?"

Now that was a hard question to answer. She sensed that she was at a critical moment in her negotiations with the Italian Godfather. She straightened in her chair, picked up her glass of vodka and knocked it back. It took herculean effort not to gag, but she managed. She set the glass on the table and gave Savino a hard look.

“No, I don’t wish to go with him. I was doing fine on my own, building my forging business, before your son came along and fucked it up.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m asking for your help, to keep me safe from your son and hidden from Mateo until I figure out what to do. I’m asking as a Sotza; as a potential ally.”

The Italian boss eyed her with a new kind of appreciation. She may be bringing a barn full of shit to his doorstep, but she was also handing him an opportunity on a silver platter. She was valuable now as not only Sotza’s stepdaughter, but as the woman Mateo, one of the most fierce and feared men in the mob, was looking for.

"I will place you under my protection," he said decisively, his eyes gleaming. He waved the bouncer over. "Have Roberto take her to the house."

The bouncer "helped" Raina from the booth, his giant fist wrapped around her arm. Raina's heart sank right into her stomach. What exactly had she gotten herself into?

4

When Mateo realized that Raina was gone, a rush of emotions swept through him, anger and worry topmost. He wasn't used to having emotions like these and he wasn't entirely sure how to deal with them. He was a cold-blooded bastard, a fact that no one who knew him would dispute. Yet from the moment he met Raina in person, from that first moment he touched her, smelled her, he was lost. There was no denying how he felt about her.

Despite knowing that she was it for him, he wasn't entirely sorry when she disappeared from his life two years ago. Though he'd been furious, enough to almost make an enemy of Raina's mother, he had recognized that she was too young to claim at the time. Only nineteen. Old enough in some cultures, legal for marriage, but Raina had been raised in America with the ideal of freedom foremost in her upbringing. The past two years proved exactly how much freedom meant to her. Coming back to her family would be clipping her wings. Yet he had to do it.

It was time for Raina to claim her crown and it was time for him to claim his queen and rise up to take his rightful place in the underworld. He had mentored under the Gentleman Butcher for two decades with the promise of a future in the organization. Sotza’s word was as good as gold.

It didn't hurt that a marriage between Mateo and Raina would solidify Mateo’s position. He might want the girl more than he wanted his next breath, but he was still willing to use her to gain position.

Mateo touched a smear of blood on the outside of the clinic window where she had clearly pushed herself through and then either dangled or fallen to the ground. Another bolt of anger rushed through him. She was too reckless, couldn't take care of herself. It was well past time for her to come home. Where she would no longer be allowed to put herself in such danger.

Without turning, Mateo said to his people, "Find her."

He didn't need to say more. Though his men were not familiar with the city, they knew enough about the underground workings of Italy to find their way around. To find the people that mattered. To find her.

Mateo walked away from the clinic, his shoulders tense as he thought of all the things he wanted to do to her when he got his hands on her. Of course, she was injured, so any punishment would have to wait. He needed to teach his woman her new place in life.

5

This was a bad idea and she was probably going to die.

Raina was sitting in the back seat of a vehicle driven by one of Savino's henchmen and sitting next to another. Savino’s men retrieved the car at the parking lot near the Venice train station and were driving through Mestre, a borough of Venice. They were making sure that she wasn't going anywhere. She was starting to realize that by going to Savino she had leapt out of the frying pan and right into the fire. At least with Mateo she could be 99% positive that he wasn't going to kill her on sight.

She eyed the massive mansion as it came into view when the car rounded the long, winding, curved driveway. She heard the buzz of the gates as they closed. Savino's estate was surrounded by a wall and though everything was shrouded in shadows, she thought she could make out spikes on top of the fence. The mansion itself was big, dark and gloomy. From her vantage point, pulling up to the front of the mansion, she couldn't see a single light on inside.

Think logically, she thought to herself.

If they were going to kill her, they would take her out to the middle of nowhere and put a bullet in her head. Not bring her back to the fancy mansion where bloodstains on the Oriental rugs would probably not come out.

The car halted and her door was opened for her. A hand reached inside. Raina hesitated for a few seconds before taking it and allowing the person to help her out. She gripped her side as it twinged in pain. Her back was on fire. But there was nothing she could do about that at the moment, not until she a bed and got some rest.

She was escorted up to the mansion doors by no less than three very large men. Apparently, it took this kind of muscle to escort one small helpless injured twenty-one-year-old woman. For some reason, Savino really didn't want to lose her, which was a frightening thought.

Her intent in going to the Italian Godfather was to brazen her way out of Italy. She had planned to use her stepfather's name to get herself safe passage through checkpoints. Instead, she somehow managed to intrigue Savino enough to gain herself entry into his private sanctum. On the upside, her stepfather likely didn't know about this yet. Possibly she could still wiggle her way out of the situation.

The door swung open and she stepped inside the mansion. It was the fanciest house she'd ever seen. Sotza’s Venezuelan home was incredible too; a beautiful mix of rustic and modern coming together in an almost old English style. For the brief time that she lived there, she had enjoyed exploring the many rooms and the gorgeous gardens beyond the house.

Savino’s home was different. It was bigger than Sotza’s. Raina couldn't begin to guess how many rooms would be in this building. But it had a cold feel to it, an unused feel. The entryway was dark. No one greeted them and no lights were turned on. It was spooky.

"This way." Her escort waved her down the hallway on the right.

Raina nodded and trailed after him, squinting into the different nooks and crannies to try to get an idea of what the place looked like. It was really quite dark in the hallway and she might have actually lost her footing if it weren't for the vague shape of the man in front of her. He led her past several doors before opening one on the end and waving her inside. As she stepped through the door, she heaved a sigh of relief. Now this room she could work with.

It was big and cozy, lined with bookshelves, dominated by a huge masculine desk and leather chair. French balcony doors led outside, but she couldn't see anything in the darkness beyond. If she had to guess, there was probably a well-manicured lawn and garden out there. A roaring fire in the fireplace beckoned to her and she turned towards it holding her hands out. The door closed softly behind her and she looked over her shoulder in time to hear a click.

Raina checked the door, rattling the handle. Locked. She thought about getting angry; she thought about beating on the door and screaming for help. Like the damsel in distress from the movies.

Perhaps it was the gunshot wound, but she didn’t have it in her to throw a fuss. All she could muster at the moment was mild curiosity. Why had she been brought to Savino's home? And why was she locked inside what was probably his office?

Though she was fairly certain that the answers to those questions couldn't be anything good, she also didn't believe she was in any immediate danger. Savino's response to her at the club would have been much different if he'd intended her harm. If he'd hated her on sight, or worse, been indifferent, she’d probably be floating face-down in a canal.

Drawn to the warmth of the fire, she sat in one of two giant leather chairs. She kicked off her shoes, pulled her knees up and tucked her feet underneath her. Her back gave a painful twinge, but she was so relaxed and comfy that she didn't want to move. It seemed strange to feel this at ease in the home of someone she should probably consider an enemy. But she didn't. There was something about the dark cold mansion with the one warm and friendly room. The house projected a kind of loneliness. She couldn't hate lonely.

Raina considered herself an extroverted introvert. She loved being at home alone, reading her books, and working on her graphic art. But she also loved going out. She loved dancing, dating and talking to people. Her work in forgery gave her the opportunity to meet all kinds of people. She got a small peek into the illicit lives of others as she worked on their fake documents. She loved those glimpses and held each interaction close to her heart. She would never betray a customer. Unless that customer was Antonio Savino and he'd had her shot.

Raina's eyes grew heavy as she sat in the chair waiting. What exactly she was waiting for, she didn't know, but she may as well have a snooze while she waited. She pulled a pillow out from behind her back and curled it into her stomach, wiggling in the chair until she found a comfortable position. She fell asleep like that and didn’t wake until the door rattled.

By the time Raina came fully awake Savino was already in the office and striding toward her. She shoved a handful of blonde hair out of her face and blinked sleepily up at him smothering a yawn with her hand.

"Signore Savino," she said softly. "Thank you for bringing me to your home. It's quite lovely."

“Call me Giovanni, please.” He sat in the chair opposite her, crossing one leg over the other and watching her with interest. "My apologies for not warning you about this mausoleum. It’s hardly the proper place to bring a young woman such as yourself, but there was no other safe haven that I could think of. My son has as much access to the city as I do, it wouldn't take him long to find you. In fact, he will find you here."

Raina shivered at that thought. Her fight or flight instinct was telling her to get up and start running, to burst through those French doors, race across the lawn and scale what she suspected was a razor-sharp fence. Of course, she couldn't do that.

“Am I going to be alright here?” she asked unsteadily.

Giovanni ignored her question, instead calling loudly toward the hallway, "Doctor, please come in." A thin and wiry man wearing a sweater over a pair of dark brown pants drew Raina's attention. "Dr. Danilo will examine your injury."

Raina thought about denying them, but Giovanni hadn't exactly given her an option. And it probably wouldn't hurt to get her wound looked at by a real doctor.

Raina attempted to stand, but the doctor put his hand on her shoulder. "No need to get up. I understand the wound is on your back. Lean forward in the chair and point at where it is."

Raina did as he asked, clutching the arm of the chair and leaning against it. She turned her face into the side and rubbed the softness of the chair against her cheek. She pointed at the spot on her back where the bullet hole was.

"It's already been sutured," she told him as he used medical scissors to slice through the gauze wrapped around her middle. She winced as he peeled the wad of gauze from her skin. It hurt like a bitch.

The doctor was quick to reassure her. "The wound is bad enough but seems to have missed everything important. You’re a lucky woman. Whoever sewed you up did an excellent job. The stitches are even, and you’ll only have a slight pucker of the scar."

"There goes bikini season," she said dryly. Raina didn't really give a shit about bikinis or any other kind of beachwear.

At the age of twelve, Raina had kidney transplant, a surgery that cut her wide open at the back. The ensuing scar was big and ugly. She didn't really care about it anymore, but at that young and tender age she'd been horrified by it. She had made sure it was covered at all times. Teenage years were awkward enough without adding to it a major illness and surgery. Raina tried to bury those memories as best she could.

The doctor finished treating and dressing her wound. He smoothed her shirt down her back with clinical economic movements. She respected his cool professional presence; it was like a balm to her after all that had happened that day.

The doctor gave her instructions on how to care for her wound, when the bandages could come off and when the sutures could come out. She listened to him intently, though she had to fight to keep her eyes open. She caught a glimpse of Giovanni watching her thoughtfully. She could almost see the gears in his brain working.

When the doctor excused himself and left the office, closing the door softly behind him, Raina decided it was time to speak plainly. "Why am I here, Giovanni? Not that I don't appreciate your hospitality, but when I came to you for help, this wasn't exactly what I had mind."

He studied her, not saying anything for several long minutes. She didn't interrupt the silence as she suspected he was gathering his thoughts. He seemed like a man that didn't often speak without thinking, a quality that she could appreciate. She had never really been one to speak out of turn, unless she was fired up about something.

"You are an interesting young woman. Your boldness is both infuriating and refreshing, but there is a fine line between the two. I fear your youth could lead to an impetuosity that could get you killed in this world… the underground I mean. And that would be a shame." He seemed to debate with himself on what to say next, perhaps on whether or not to speak his mind. Finally, he nodded to himself and continued, "If anyone else came to me with your demands, your blackmail –"

"Information, not blackmail," she hurried to assure him.

"Do not interrupt me again." His voice rang with steel. She shivered and sealed her lips. "At best I would have given you a few dollars and had you shown back onto the street to deal with the fallout of my son. At worst I would have had you killed myself."

He sat staring at her and when a long enough period of time passed, Raina felt it was safe to speak without being accused of interrupting. "And what made you change your mind? Made you decide to take me on as a charity case?"

He tilted his head, his strong hawk-like features cast in flickering shadows from the fireplace. "The most truthful answer is your stepfather. Sotza carries a lot of weight in the circles we share; he could make my life extremely difficult if I was involved in the disappearance of his daughter.”

Raina narrowed her eyes at him. Though Giovanni respected Sotza, he also seemed to have a lot of power in his own right. Having gotten to know him a little, she suspected he wouldn’t normally help someone in her position, despite her relation to Sotza. “Is that the only reason you brought me here?”

His sharp gaze roved over her face as he contemplated his answer. "I wish for you to marry my son.”

Luckily, she was too stunned for her face to match her inner thoughts. There was not a snowball’s chance in hell that she was going to marry Giovanni's son. She’d kill him herself first.

Giovanni continued to speak. "You seem cool and collected, but I will know better as I get to know you. Must be reasonably intelligent to carry on your business as a forger. You would be a good wife for my son. You’re beautiful and frankly, it would help forge a relationship with your stepfather. I am getting older, but I need my son settled before I can hand my empire to him. You are just the woman to do it.”

The word “no” wanted to burst forth from Raina so badly that she had to bite down on her soft lower lip to stop it from flying out. Giovanni didn't like being interrupted when he was speaking. She also suspected he didn't like hearing the word no. As far as he was concerned the future bride of his son had walked up to him in his club with a gunshot wound and begged for his help.

Before Raina could say much of anything, Giovanni stood and held his hand out to her. She slid her hand into his and allowed him to help her stand. "I will have someone show you to your room."

Raina had no doubt that there was a lock on that door too. She was definitely rethinking her decision to enlist Signore Savino’s help. Her recklessness could lead to an all out mob war if things didn’t end well.

Mateo would want revenge if anything happened to her. There was something about his attachment to her, their mutual attraction. Raina didn't believe in soulmates, but she didn't know how else to explain Mateo. It was part of the reason why she ran from him; to protect herself. His passion, his obsession, everything about him, it was too much. She couldn't handle that kind of love.

No, she didn’t have any choice but to trust Giovanni. For now.

6

Finding Raina was the easy part, figuring out how to get her back was an entirely different matter. Mateo had been on his feet for nearly seventy-two hours. No sleep, little food – a shit ton of aggravation. As much as he wanted to go after Raina without delay, he knew he needed sleep first. He wasn't getting her back if he couldn't use his brain.

Mateo was sitting in a booth in the restaurant located in the lobby of his hotel. It wasn't exactly an upscale hotel. He needed to try and blend while in Italy. He couldn’t toss his money and weight around, raising questions about who he was and where he came from. As a result, the restaurant was low-quality, overpriced, and dingy.

Sitting with him in the booth were two of his people, Thomas and Angela. Angela acted as Mateo’s second when he left Sotza's sphere of influence and went to work on his own. Mateo had Sotza's blessing when it came to working outside of Venezuela, trusting Mateo to make decisions based on Sotza’s best interest. Despite being raised in an underworld filled with men, Angela was as bloodthirsty and skilled as any of them. She was the shadow in the dark that no one saw coming. A cute, innocent looking young woman who could take a man out as easily as smile at him. In fact, Mateo dared any man to tell Angela to smile. It would be the last thing he did.

Thomas was another who Mateo trusted implicitly. He’d been with the Sotza cartel for a decade, living on the compound and working his way up through the ranks. He often chose to work with Mateo so he could travel the world.

"Thomas, I want you and the rest of our men to sit on the house. Make sure you track any and all of Raina's movements if she leaves the grounds. Try not to be seen by Savino's men, but if you are, tell them the truth. I have a hunch that Raina told Savino the truth about who she is and that's why she's being kept at his estate." Mateo downed the rest of the water in his cup and threw a few french fries into his mouth. He turned Angela. "I want you to go and talk to Savino at his club, arrange a meeting."

She snorted. "He won't talk to a woman. Venezuela is bad enough when it comes to getting men to treat me like an equal, but Italy? The Sicilian Cosa Nostra? Not a chance."

"Watch your tongue with me,” Mateo snapped, his voice hard. “You don't get to argue with my orders."

Angela had a chip on her shoulder a mile wide and she wasn't afraid to mouth off her opinion. They were of a similar age and had worked together from their teen years on. Mateo was willing to take more lip from her than he did most people. But not in this instance, not in Italy. He needed a tight crew here.

“A beautiful woman is more likely to get close to Savino, maybe convince him to drop his guard."

Despite his order that she shut up and do as he says, Angela couldn't help but voice one more opinion. "That's easy for you to say. We don't know what Raina said to him to get him to adopt her. What if it was something else about her that drew him, besides her beauty?" Her lip curled in disgust as she said the last word.

"Then I guess we'll find out when he sends your body back to me in pieces. Now get out of here and go deliver my message. I want a meeting with Savino at his earliest convenience. Use Sotza’s name if you have to."

Mateo didn't give her another opportunity to argue. He pulled out his wallet, opened it and tossed a few bills on the table, then shoved his chair back and stood. The room swam for second. Fuck, he needed to get some sleep.

He strode away from the pair and out of the restaurant into the hotel lobby. He bypassed the elevator and took the stairs up three flights. He strode down the hallway to room 407 and used his key card to open it. He didn't care about the shabbiness of the room; he'd slept in worse places. Swamps, jungles, Siberia. He was dead on his feet. At this point he would sleep just about anywhere.

But as he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, Raina's face emerged. It was pale and pinched. No less lovely than usual, but worried. Terrified even. Though she had been brought into the world of the mafia via her mother and stepfather, she had never experienced the kind of violence she’d seen earlier that day. She'd been shocked into the reality of the lifestyle in a brutal way. Mateo couldn’t blame her for running from the clinic. She probably saw him as another gun-toting mobster, like Antonio Savino and his posse.

Before falling asleep, Mateo vowed to hunt down the fucker that had made her world a little bit darker. He didn't give a shit if the man who had Raina shot was also the son of the most powerful man in Italy. If Mateo had to, he would slaughter them all.

With that thought he allowed sleep to overtake him. He dreamed of Raina. Her soft skin, shining hair, deep blue eyes that a man could get lost in for days and a grin that spelled all kinds of trouble for the man in her life. For Mateo.

7

Raina woke suddenly from a sharp stabbing pain in her back. She gasped and bolted upright, then immediately regretted the action as she cried out in pain.

"Ow, shit!" she yelped reaching around to touch her back. She must've rolled over onto the wound or stretched funny in her sleep and the pain woke her up.

That was a hell of a way to greet the day. She took several deep breaths trying to regain her composure. Tears burned behind her eyelids, but she quickly dried her eyes. There was nothing to cry about. It was just a little pain, nothing she hadn't dealt with before.

When she managed to pull herself together, she inched her way to the edge of the bed and gingerly placed her feet on the floor. She decided to take a short rest rather than stand up immediately and risk falling over if she happened to receive another jolt of intense pain or a wave of dizziness.

She hated that she was in such weak condition while sheltering in the home of someone who might be an enemy. It made her vulnerable and Raina didn't like feeling vulnerable. She was pretty sure she got that personality trait from her tough as nails mother. Vee also hated feeling vulnerable.

But Diane, Raina's adoptive mom, always wore her feelings on her sleeve. Everyone knew where they stood with Diane. She was the kindest hearted person Raina knew. Sometimes Raina wished she was more like her adoptive mom than her birth mother. Yet, she was also able to recognize that each woman had given Raina unique characteristics that made up her whole person. She couldn't regret something like that.

She gripped the edge of the nightstand and slowly pulled herself up onto her feet. Motherfucker, her back was on fire. It hurt much worse than it had the night before. Was it infected? Had she somehow managed to tear the stitches in her sleep?

She thought about it and decided the wound was probably sore from being slept on. After she'd had her kidney transplant, she’d had good days and bad days, depending on what her body decided to throw at her. There were definitely times where the incision site hurt much worse than other times.

Raina wasn't one to seek drugs, but if anything was going to drive her out of that bedroom and in search of civilization within Giovanni’s great mausoleum of a house it was her need for painkillers. She tugged at the T-shirt that she'd been given to sleep in. She thought it might belong to one of the Italian men guarding the estate. It was a plain black T-shirt that covered her up for the most part, though it bared her legs more than she was comfortable with.

She gave her pile of clothes on the floor a disparaging look. She hated the thought of putting them back on. They were dirty, they were bloody, and they represented her trauma of the day before. She wanted nothing more than to bury them in a deep hole and never look at them again. Which sucked, because those had been her favourite jeans and the leather jacket had been specially made for her in France.

Another thing Antonio owed her.

She made her way carefully down the hall toward the bathroom that she’d been shown the night before. She relieved herself, washed her hands and attempted to put her hair into some semblance of order. The fine blonde strands were not usually difficult to arrange. A quick finger comb and some fluffing and she no longer had a wicked case of bedhead.

She went through all the drawers and the medicine cabinet searching for ibuprofen or Tylenol but came up empty. Dammit, she was actually going to have to go look for someone.

Raina wandered down the staircase to the lower level, looking this way and that at the house furnishings. She hoped they would be less gloomy than they had the night before, but her impression of an unloved and unlived in home was spot on. Dust covered pretty much everything and what the dust wasn't covering, drop cloths were.

It looked as though this place had been abandoned some time ago, but she knew otherwise. The library she'd been shown to the night before had been well used. The guest room she’d used hadn’t sported even a speck of dust.

She bypassed Giovanni's office in favour of searching for a maid or a guard instead. Though she felt relatively certain that Giovanni wasn't going to have her killed, at least not yet, she wasn't quite up for a conversation with the man. She had yet to truly absorb the fact that he wanted her to marry his son, the man who'd had her shot.

She shook her head at the strange logic and continued through the lower level of the home. Nothing she was seeing was convincing her that the home was used for more than sleep and time spent in that one office. A formal dining room boasted a gorgeous chandelier that was covered in filth and a massive table with ten chairs draped in cloths. Such a creepy old house. She was about to move on to the kitchen when a voice from behind her stopped her.

"No doubt you think my home is strange," Giovanni said. He waited until she turned to face him before continuing. "My wife died eleven years ago. She loved this home, decorated it, made it completely her own. Since her death I have been unable to love it the way she loved it."

And yet he hadn’t been able to move on and move out, Raina finished his thought silently. He must have been very much in love with his wife, she decided. It must've been completely heart-wrenching for Giovanni to have lost her.

Raina’s heart went out to him. But not his asshole of a son. She was still going to stab that loser the moment she laid eyes on him.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," she murmured, meaning it.

He nodded his thanks. "This is a big home, with much potential. It should be filled with love, light and laughter once more. The voices of children. The way it was always meant to be."

Raina said nothing to this; she didn’t want to encourage his delusion that she marry his son.

"In the city, in my business, I must be the Godfather. The big shot. Mafioso. But in my home, I have a heart."

And he was choosing to share that heart with Raina. It scared her that he was opening himself up to her, showing his vulnerabilities. She believed that this meant she would either have to die or become part of the family. The little she knew about these types of men, they had a code. Opening up, giving information to another person, was unheard of except with close family members. It frightened her that he was already considering her family. She wanted to disabuse him of the idea, but she also wanted to continue breathing.

She elected not to speak.

He seemed to realize that his nostalgia was somewhat out of place and a shutter dropped over his expression, pushing Raina out. "You were looking for something?" His voice was cool and steady once more.

"Yes, thank you. I was searching for some painkillers. My back is in rough shape this morning."

"My apologies for not getting them to you sooner. You are such a tough little creature that I'd forgotten you will feel pain like anyone else. Follow me." He turned and walked back in the other direction, toward his office.

Raina trailed after him thinking about the strange things he'd said. Why wouldn't she feel pain like anyone else? No matter how tough a person is, pretty much everyone felt pain. Had he been testing her? Testing her resilience?

Raina gave herself a mental shake. She was overthinking this. He’d already stated his intentions and she didn't think it mattered whether or not she was fainting or gritting her teeth and bearing the pain, he still wanted her for a daughter-in-law.

Strangely though, she was starting to soften towards the older man. He seemed lonely and somewhat out of touch. Brutal probably, though she hadn't seen any first-hand evidence. She wondered how she would be feeling right about now if he'd told her she would marry him rather than his son. Neither was a great option, but the older gentleman was far more palatable then his weasel spawn.

After showing her into his office, he went to his desk and picked up a pill bottle. He shook a couple pills out into his hand and gave them to her. She looked at his hand with narrowed eyes. It probably wasn't smart to take drugs from someone she didn't trust. And right now, Savino was on the far end of her spectrum of trust.

He caught on to her hesitation. "The doctor left these for you last night. I forgot to send them up to your room. I assure you they are simply a strong dose of ibuprofen, for your pain. He says he can bring more if you need them."

Raina shook off her skepticism, reminding herself he had plenty of other opportunities to drug or kill her. She took the pills and swallowed them dry, a skill she’d picked up in her early years of kidney failure when she had to swallow many pills and got impatient with waiting for water. "I don't think I'll need any more." She gave him a smirk. "I'm a tough little creature."

He flashed her a quick smile and then arranged his face back into business mode. "I will have some proper clothes sent to your room. I'd intended to do that before you got up, but you were out of bed earlier than expected. I’ll show you our pantry while we wait for the clothing to arrive. After, we will attend a meeting."

"With your son?" she asked hesitantly, trying to keep the worry from her voice.

Giovanni shook his head. "No, Mateo Gutierrez. We will meet with him and discuss your future."

For a few seconds it felt as though all of the air was sucked out of the room. Elation crashed into terror and sizzled right through her body making her hair stand on end. Mateo was coming for her, exactly as she knew he would. Once more her flight instinct kicked in and it was everything she could do not to run. She didn't think she would make it far with both Mateo and Giovanni hot on her heels. How the hell was she supposed to get out of this?

8

"Who are you?" Raina demanded, as an elderly woman dressed head to foot in black invaded her room without knocking.

The woman's hair was twisted into an intricate and severe knot on top of her head. It was steel grey, a colour that seemed to go with her sour expression. Though the woman hadn't said a word yet, Raina guessed that this was about the least fun person she was going to meet in Italy.

The woman dumped a pile of clothes on the bed and muttered, "Dress."

Though she'd only said one word, she had a thick accent. "English?" Raina asked curiously.

The woman shook her head and pointed at the pile in the bed. "Dress."

"Convenient," Raina muttered darkly.

Her host spoke perfect English with only a hint of an accent. As did his son and all of the men that Raina had met so far associated with either of the two mafiosos. It seemed strange that this old woman was affiliated but didn't speak English.

Raina picked at the pile of clothes on the bed, curious as to what might have been chosen for her. She held up a dress. It was pretty, flirty and short, nothing Raina would ever wear if she had a choice. The neckline appeared to be plunging, but she wouldn't know for sure until it was on and she saw how it fit. The fabric was soft and clingy. It would hug her body and likely give her curves that she didn't actually have.

Along with the dress was a pair of silk lace panties, garters, and silk stockings. There was also a pair of three-inch black stiletto heels with tiny straps around the ankles. She flipped them over to look at the brand. Valentino. Italian. She smirked.

Next, she picked up a short fluffy jacket. She wrinkled her nose as her fingers sank into the luxurious fur. She glanced over at the silently disapproving woman and asked, "Is this real?"

The woman stared at Raina without so much as a blink.

"You have a smudge of dirt on your nose," Raina said casually, pretending to turn away as she said it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the woman lift her hand to touch her nose, look at her fingers and then drop her arm. Raina turned around, her eyes narrowed. "I knew you knew English. Why do you want me to think we can’t communicate?"

The woman narrowed her eyes at Raina in return, but still refused to speak. Raina felt her temper rise, but held on to it, trying to rationalize. There could be any number of reasons why this woman refused to speak to her, but Raina despised being toyed with. She preferred people be plain with her, speak what they thought.

"Did Signore Savino tell you not to speak to me?" Raina demanded. Still the woman refused to speak. Raina picked up the furred jacket and tossed it aside. "I won't wear it as long as there’s a chance it might be real. I don't believe in the slaughter of animals for fashion."

The woman betrayed her feelings for Raina’s statement with a wrinkled nose and a slight role of her eyes. Oh, now it was on. Raina rounded on her. "What, you think animals should be destroyed for our pleasure?"

Still nothing, though the woman crossed her arms tightly in front of her and stared a hole in the wall opposite. Raina felt as though she badly had something to say but was afraid to speak her mind. "Well if you won't speak to me, then I'm going to have to guess your thoughts. You think since I eat meat that I'm a hypocrite. Well I'm not. I don't like meat either, I only eat it because I have to have a very well-balanced diet on account of my kidneys. I had kidney failure when I was a child and I had to have a kidney transplant. Since then, I've had to watch my diet extremely carefully, which includes a small amount of meat. But I won't have you thinking I'm a hypocrite – "

"It's not a real fur, idiota! It's a fake. Oi, young people speak too freely these days! The car will arrive for you in fifteen minutes." The woman turned on her heel and stomped away.

"Knew she could speak English," Raina muttered, picking up the fake fur jacket.

It was really amazing what design houses could come up with these days using synthetics. The jacket was as luxurious and soft as real fur, to the point that Raina hesitated to wear it anyway. She didn't want to be accused of animal murder, and who knew what PETA representatives she might run into while she was out and about in Venice.

Raina decided to skip a shower, since she didn’t want to get her bandage wet, choosing to have a quick bird bath instead. Then she pulled on the panties and the dress. She picked up the garter and stockings. Raina had never worn anything like it before and she didn't think the few minutes she had left were enough to try and figure it out. She dropped them and reached for the heels.

The shoes fit like they were made for her feet. Someone had paid attention, either to her feet, or her shoes while she was sleeping. The thought probably should've freaked her out, but she was getting use to Giovanni’s ways. He was a strange one, but she didn't think he meant her any real harm.

She checked herself in the floor length mirror next to the dresser. She looked good. Really good. Raina rarely wore dresses. She’d grown up as a farm girl and was happiest when she was wearing jeans, a T-shirt and running shoes, but since meeting her mother and seeing far more of the world, she'd come to gain an appreciation for fashion. Not necessarily high-fashion or brand labels, but more a desire to look good when she left the house. Raina smiled at the mirror. She thought maybe she looked a bit like a period dame, the side candy of a 1920’s gangster.

Reluctantly she picked up the fake fur jacket and tugged it on. It was pure white, a beautiful contrast to the royal blue of the dress. Okay, she was willing to admit, the jacket made the outfit.

She descended the stairs quickly, aware that she was two minutes past the allotted fifteen minutes. When she arrived by the front door, Giovanni was waiting for her, glancing at the watch that he pulled out of his pocket. A smile tugged at her lips. It suited him; the pocket watch attached to a gold chain. She rather thought he'd be dashing with a monocle as well, but she wasn't going to tell him that. She didn't think that their relationship had progressed to that point yet.

"Ah, there you are, bella," he said, a chiding note in his voice as he tucked his watch away. Then he looked her over with admiration, all chiding aside. "You are stunning. Shall we, Ms. Sotza?" He gave her his arm.

She didn't bother to correct him on the Sotza. Her name was Raina Duncan, after her adoptive parents. Her last name mattered to her, because the Duncans had raised her. They had been good to her. Not only did she feel she owed them her allegiance, but using their last name was also a sign of respect.

Raina loved her birth mother and she adored her stepfather, but she would not erase her past by taking on Sotza's name. However, she wasn't going to argue with the Italian Godfather. The name of Sotza was what was keeping her safe at the moment.

She grinned at Giovanni and took the arm that he offered her. "Thank you, signore.”

He led her out the door toward an idling limousine with tinted windows. He opened the door and helped her slide onto the seat. He closed the door carefully and strode around to the other side.

Giovanni was smooth and she appreciated it. He was a gentleman, much like her stepfather. She had no doubt Giovanni could be as brutal as Sotza, but he managed to keep a veneer of civilization at the same time. She hoped he was living on this side of sociopathic, the side where he could actually appreciate her plight, rather than treat her like another piece on his chessboard.

They chatted easily as they drove. Raina wasn't surprised, Giovanni was an easy person for her to get along with. She asked him about life in Italy, what he loved best about the country and what he thought she should see as a tourist. He was happy to answer her questions, even sometimes becoming animated as he spoke. He was passionate about Italy; a man who clearly loved his birth country.

They arrived at a parking lot where they left the vehicle and stepped into a waiting boat. The wind slapped her in the face as they made their way through the canals. Normally the sights and smells of Venice would capture her completely, but she was preoccupied with her upcoming meeting with Mateo. Her stomach was filled with butterflies.

Before long they were at the club, Banditos. Giovanni stepped out onto the dock and held his hand out to her, helping her until she was standing next to him smoothing her dress over her thighs. She released a long breath as she looked at the door of the club with apprehension. In the light of day, it looked like a regular building. Not nearly as exciting, or sophisticated, as it had the night before. She supposed it was probably this way with all nightclubs. They would never look as awesome in the cold light of day as they did at night.

"You have nothing to be nervous about, I will make sure that you’re protected at all times and that you are not harmed by this man."

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

Giovanni gave her an unconcerned smile. “I will also be fine, bella.”

Raina let out a short laugh. "Clearly, you have never seen Mateo angry before.”

Giovanni squeezed her hand again and led her toward the door, which a bouncer opened for them. "Clearly you have never seen Mateo Gutierrez angry before or you would not be standing here talking to me." Giovanni threw her own words back at her, but in a much more sinister way. A shiver slid down her spine as she stepped into the darkness of the club.

9

A good night's sleep put Mateo in a better mood. At least a less-likely-to-murder-on-sight mood. His first thought was Raina; the deep and abiding gnawing feeling of concern that wouldn’t go away until he set eyes on her, had her back in his care.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, placing his feet on the floor. He ran a hand over his hair and face and then stretched his back and neck, cracking his shoulders.

He glanced at the cheap clock. He'd slept for nearly eight hours. Mateo was usually a strict six hours per night guy.

He snatched up his phone which was plugged into the charger next to the clock. A message blinked at him. It was from Angela.

Meeting with Savino. Banditos. 11 AM.

It was now 10:15 AM. The message had come in late the night before. Angela had done good, arranging a meeting so quickly.

He pushed himself off the bed and opened the blinds, allowing weak sunlight to filter through the dirty window. He took a quick shower, washing his hair and running soap over his body. He dried off and looked through his bag for some clothes.

He hadn't brought much with him in the way of nicer clothes. He rarely wore a suit, preferring outfits that allowed for easier movement. But a meeting with a man of Savino’s standing called for one. He hadn't anticipated needing a suit here, believing that he would grab Raina and get out of Italy. He should’ve known his future bride would throw a wrench into his plans.

Mateo growled his frustration and tossed aside the pair of jeans he’d been holding. If he had taken a room in a more upscale hotel, he could have called the concierge to get someone to shop for him. But with barely half an hour left before the meeting, he was on his own and running out of time. He was about to jerk the towel off his hips and dress in his worn jeans and a T-shirt when a knock sounded at the door.

He picked his gun up off the nightstand, checked to make sure that it was loaded and walked carefully toward the door. Standing to the side he said loudly, "Who is it?"

A female voice filtered through. He couldn't tell what she said, but she sounded like Angela. In one swift move he unlocked the door and jerked it open reaching out for her.

"Hey!" she yelled in annoyance as he dragged her inside. She tripped over her combat boots and let go of the garment bag she was holding, reaching out to grip the doorknob so she wouldn't fall over.

Mateo didn't give her time to right herself, he shoved her to the side, looked both ways down the hall and then slammed the door shut. He locked it and gave her a narrow look. "What are you doing here?"

She huffed out a breath and strode further into the room. "I figured since your ass was getting some beauty sleep this morning, I better get you some appropriate attire for your meeting with Savino. He surrounds himself with smartly dressed people, which tells me he isn't one to enjoy the presence of a roughneck."

Mateo grunted and walked away from her, leaving her to pick up the garment bag and toss it on the bed. He was being ungrateful, but he didn't care. He never cared. This was him. He didn’t observe social niceties. They were a waste of time and likely to get a person killed.

"You spoke to him." Not a question. He wouldn't have a meeting with the man if Angela hadn't met with him first.

She nodded. "A strange man, but I don’t think he’ll have us all killed or anything. As long as you don't say the wrong thing."

They looked at each other, both knowing what the other was thinking. Of course Mateo was going to say the wrong thing. He was an enforcer, a second-in-command. He was rough, he was brutal, he was in no way diplomatic. The boss made the negotiations. Mateo’s job was to keep the boss safe and make sure everyone abided by Sotza’s rules.

Miami was going to be a test of Mateo’s ability to change. If and when he finally got his hands on the city.

Neither of them said anything as Mateo unzipped the garment bag and examined the suit inside. He raised an eyebrow at it. "How much did you spend on this?"

It was easily one of the most expensive suits he would ever wear. Sotza, his employer, was always impeccably dressed in these things, but Mateo had never seen the point. He could work and fight much more easily wearing his own clothes.

"You don't want to know."

No, he didn't. Though Mateo was paid very well, with more money than he could possibly spend in a lifetime, he put most of it away. He sent half of it to his family in Caracas. The rest he squirreled away. For what, he didn't know. But he was the type of guy that figured eventually a path would open up to him and he would know what to do.

He dropped his towel, uncaring of Angela's presence, and began dressing. She rolled her eyes, made a clucking sound and turned to face the wall. He smirked at her back. For such a bad ass, she sure got all uppity about seeing a naked man. There was nothing between them or he wouldn't have dropped the towel in front of her. Angela was like a sister. They had each other's backs. She was his employee. Sometimes they acted like friends. But no more than that.

As he dressed in the fancy suit, he said, "Tell me about Savino."

"He's extremely wealthy. He has enough influence in Italy to sway elections. To choose candidates that’ll enable his business empire and then ensure their victories. Those that cross him have a tendency to disappear and the judicial system here doesn’t seem to get involved. Obviously, he's bought the police, which I suspect is how the son was able to track Raina."

Mateo had been afraid of that when she'd run from him at the clinic. Afraid that in her panic she would rush to leave the country and end up in the hands of a man who wanted her dead. Though her presence in the home of the father did not bode well, at least she'd had the sense to pull weight on her stepfather's name. That alone would keep her safe. For now.

"Turn around," Mateo growled. Angela obeyed and when she was facing him, he handed her the tie.

She stepped up to him and dragged it around his neck using her fingertips to press it up under the collar. With quick efficient motions she tied it for him, keeping her face from betraying what he knew she was thinking. A badass murderous motherfucker like Mateo needed help with his tie. He'd never been able to tie the fuckers, not even as a boy. Probably had something to do with his father passing away before he was five and then being raised by his mother and two sisters.

Mateo debated packing his things and preparing to check out of the hotel but decided to leave it for now. He didn't trust Raina not to throw another wrench into his plans. He wanted to leave Italy immediately, which likely meant that his contrary fiancé would want to stay for a while. Perhaps vacation in the home of one of the most dangerous men on the face of the planet. It would almost be amusing if it wasn't so terrifying.

10

Raina’s leg jiggled under the table as she swept the club with nervous glances. She tapped her phone again and looked at the time. 10:58 AM. He would be here in a few minutes.

That thought alone sent her heart rate soaring and a ripple of apprehension through her muscles. She had to force herself to sit still and not flee the building. This was for two reasons. She was honest enough to admit that she was deeply and hopelessly attracted to Mateo. She tried to keep it on the down low, tried to bury it so that she didn't have to think about it. She feared what Mateo would do if he knew. He was already relentless and determined. How much scarier would he be if he knew she returned his feelings?

The second reason she was nervous was more obvious. Mateo was one of the most terrifying men in the world. He had such an air of unleashed violence about him that anyone standing in his vicinity would immediately sense the danger.

And for good reason. He moved fast, like lightning. Or a big cat stalking its prey. Mateo was also patient and intelligent. He thought through everything he did before executing his plans. But when he executed, it was with speed and precision. Probably one of the reasons he was still alive. Raina had no doubt that Mateo had made enemies in his days.

Giovanni, who had been off to the side speaking in low tones to one of his men, joined her at the table and sat. "I took the liberty of ordering you a drink."

A frosted glass of orange juice was placed in front of her. Raina smirked. "Nonalcoholic?"

"I have had the opportunity to learn some things about you. Among those things is the terrible disease and surgery that you had to go through as a child. I now regret forcing alcohol on you last night, knowing now why you choose not to drink."

Raina shrugged. "It won't kill me to have a drink once in a while, I just have to be careful. I was lucky enough to get a second chance at life and it would be a stupid thing to risk that."

Giovanni nodded thoughtfully, internalizing her statement. It was good, she wanted him to realize how much life and freedom meant to her. He seemed determined that they should be allies. Now if he would stop pushing his murderous son on her, she would be much more comfortable in his presence.

Before they could speak again, they heard a commotion in the hall leading to the front door of the club. Giovanni snapped his fingers at his man and pointed. He left to go check.

"Mateo," Raina guessed.

"Indeed." Giovanni picked up his drink and calmly took a sip, his dark eyes on the door where Mateo would soon emerge.

Giovanni's man came striding back to their table. His shoulders were rigid, his eyes were down, his hands were clasped. Interesting. Raina didn't have a ton of experience with mafia men, but she found it noteworthy that the minions of the big guys acted differently. Sotza's men feared and respected him, but the way they spoke around him, it was more relaxed, as though there was a certain kind of equality. Giovanni’s men, on the other hand, took their deference to him to the extreme.

Giovanni's men made it clear that there was no equality. They didn't speak their minds around him, they didn't share thoughts that weren't in complete agreement with Giovanni and they were clearly meant to be seen instead of heard unless Giovanni needed something from them.

"Speak," Giovanni said to his man with a wave of his hand.

"They refuse to give up their weapons," the man grunted.

Giovanni thought about it for a couple of seconds, turning the problem over in his mind. He turned to Raina. "What do you think, my dear? Do you believe that Gutierrez and his people will shoot up my club?"

Raina blew out a breath and thought about it. This question, her answer, it was a big responsibility. Did she tell Giovanni that Mateo would mean him no harm? What if she was wrong? She had seen Mateo's reflexes, had fought with him physically, she knew at least some of what he was capable of and she suspected there was so much more. Or did she tell Giovanni that his men should disarm Mateo's?

A shudder rippled through her at that last thought. She imagined if Giovanni's men tried touching Mateo there would be a bloodbath. She turned her gaze up to Giovanni's waiting one and said, her voice slow and thoughtful, "As you know, Mateo is a very dangerous man. I have seen nothing to dispute this in the time that I've spent with him. However, it’s my impression that he’s also a thoughtful man. He doesn’t pull his gun unless he means it and he doesn't attack people without a reason. I believe you have nothing to fear." She paused, tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "I'm not entirely sure how these negotiations will go. I'm not sure what he'll do if you say something that he doesn't like."

Giovanni nodded. "You make some good points." He turned to his man. "Let the man in already, I've had enough waiting. They may keep their weapons, but make sure you and your men are close. Don't get jumpy, don't pull a weapon unless you have my go-ahead."

Raina felt a little sick at that. She didn't want anyone pulling any more weapons. She'd already been shot once. And that was the most violence she'd experienced in her short life so far. She was desperately hoping that they could have a nice sit-down brunch together and have a civilized chat about her future.

Mateo didn't wait for either his men or Giovanni's, he quickly strode toward their table. Ignoring Giovanni entirely, Mateo rounded the table to where Raina was sitting. He dropped to his knee next to her and took her hand in a hard grip.

"Tell me you’re okay." His voice was an agitated growl. And though his appearance was immaculate, there was a wild look in his eyes that she'd never seen before.

At first, Raina was so surprised she couldn't speak. What was he doing? How could he put himself in such a vulnerable position right next to a potential enemy? All of Giovanni's men were at his back, their hands twitching towards their holsters as they tried to figure out what Mateo was doing with her. Did he actually care this much? That he might put himself in danger over her?

"I'm fine," she said quietly for his ears alone. He continued to have that wild look. She placed her hand on top of his where he gripped her and squeezed. "Really, Mateo, I feel fine. Giovanni has been treating me like a queen."

Mateo’s shoulders stiffened at her use of Giovanni's name, but he didn't chastise her for it. "Your wound?" he persisted.

"Honestly, I’m fine," she said insistently, glancing around at the people surrounding them, embarrassment colouring her cheeks. She was just as tough as the rest of them, but Mateo was treating her as though she was a delicate doll.

"She is in near perfect health," Giovanni said, his voice jovial with an edge of curiosity. His dark eyes lingered on her lap where Mateo's hand clasped hers. "My personal physician saw to her and made sure that she will have no lasting ill effects from her wound."

Mateo stood slowly, his entire body tense. Raina held her breath. He stared down at her, his dark eyes piercing through flesh and bones and thoughts.

Whenever he did that, whenever he looked at her with such an intense gaze, she felt like she could divine his thoughts. Blood, sex and violence. She gave a slight shake of her head, silently telling him she truly was fine.

His shoulders seemed to relax a fraction. No one else around them would've seen the interaction, it had been so fast and intimate. No one would know that she had silently called off the bloodbath that he would've instigated on her behalf, had Giovanni hurt her in any way.

Mateo sat on Raina's other side, his body shifting in a way that very subtly blocked her from view of the club. A woman plopped herself down into the chair next to Mateo. At first, Raina thought the woman belonged to Giovanni. But body language and the way she was dressed told Raina otherwise. This one was Mateo's.

Raina studied her with the cool air of indifference on the outside and raging jealousy on the inside. The woman was beautiful, with dark serious eyes, hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders and a small compact body with more curves than Raina could ever hope to grow.

Raina knew that she was being unreasonable, that her jealousy was unwarranted. She had no real claim on Mateo, despite his obsession with her. She’d never given him any indication that she felt the same. The irrational side of Raina wanted to stamp her ownership all over the wild Venezuelan gangster.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me." Mateo’s eyes were on Giovanni as he spoke.

Considering the smoldering cauldron of violent intentions buried beneath a fancy suit and bland expression, Raina was impressed that Mateo was keeping such a polite front.

Before Giovanni could answer, Raina's curiosity got the better of her. She stuck her hand out toward the woman. "Raina Duncan. And you?"

The other woman looked momentarily startled but then seemed to gather herself. She looked at Raina as though seeing her for the first time, and for all Raina knew maybe this was the first time. The woman shook her hand, a firm quick jerk before she let it go.

"Angela Santiago.” She seemed to hesitate, then she added, "I work for Mateo and your father."

Raina pursed her lips and nodded thoughtfully. She was impressed. She hadn't realized that the Latino macho men who made up the Venezuelan underworld would allow a woman such a position. Perhaps Sotza, or Mateo, or both, were more forward-thinking than she’d given them credit for. While she certainly didn’t approve of the way they procured wives, she liked the idea that they worked with women.

"Pleased to meet you," Raina said politely, some of her jealousy melting away.

Angela nodded, her eyes drifting away from the table to scan the club. Raina wondered if Angela was a bodyguard. She was small but she dressed badass in denim, leather and heavy boots.

A slight tension rippled through the occupants of the table as they all fell silent for a few seconds. The seriousness of this meeting was starting to set in. Dangerous people sharing a table in a club owned by one of the most powerful men in the world.

Raina wondered who held more power, Giovanni or Sotza? Mateo, acting in Sotza's stead, was just as powerful as his boss. Raina recalled a conversation that she had with him when she was living in the mountain compound in Venezuela for that brief month. His words still struck a chord of apprehension within her. He'd said to her, "No man is my master."

A person only had to spend a matter of minutes with Mateo to see the coiled strength within, the leashed violence, the intelligence and the terrifying determination. Mateo knew exactly who he was and where he was going in life. This is why the idea of spending the rest of her life with a man like that, a man who was already married to the mob, felt too frightening for her to contemplate.

She would admit to being attracted to him. Who wouldn't? On the surface, he was everything a woman could want; good-looking, wealthy, self-confident. But underneath, he was dark. And while Raina had come to terms with the fact that she would inevitably be drawn into the mafia life by who she was, who she was born to, she wasn't yet ready to accept an arranged marriage.

She glanced over at Giovanni who wanted her to marry his son. No, she wasn't interested in marriage with any of the options she was currently faced with.

"Business," Mateo said in a cool voice letting the occupants of the table note that he was impatient to get the upcoming negotiations over with.

"Drinks first," Giovanni insisted.

As if out of nowhere, a woman stepped up to the table with a tray. She lowered it with professionalism, not rattling the drinks. Though no one at the table had ordered, except for Giovanni prior to the Mateo’s arrival, the waitress placed specific drinks in front of Mateo and Angela.

Mateo raised a brow and glanced down his drink. "Gin," he observed, a slight edge of sarcasm to his voice.

"With a twist of lime." Though the drink itself was innocuous, Giovanni wanted everyone at the table to know that he’d done his research. He was prepared for this conversation. And he was in control.

Angela shrugged her shoulders, rolled her eyes, picked up her drink and slammed it. She set the glass down on the table with a clunk and said, "Good drink."

Raina was starting to like this Angela chick. She had attitude and if anyone could appreciate a decent attitude it was Raina.

"Now, business." Giovanni's voice held no more warmth.

"Sotza wants his daughter back immediately, unharmed." Mateo’s voice dripped with ice. "Thanks to your imbecile of a son, I'll be handing her over with a hole in her. How do you suggest we rectify this situation?"

Raina sucked in a breath at Mateo's aggression, but Giovanni did nothing except nod. "My son has certainly made a bad move with this young lady. I regret that she came to harm within my city. Had I known she was here, I would have made sure that her stay was more pleasant."

"I insist that you release Raina to me and allow us safe passage out of your territory." Mateo's voice held aggression. He wasn't here to negotiate; he was here to make demands.

Having spent some time with Giovanni, Raina didn't believe that threats were the way to go. She felt tension running through the older man and worried that he might try to set his bodyguards on Mateo. If it came down to a fight, she wasn't sure who she was more worried about, Giovanni’s men or Mateo.

She placed a hand on Giovanni's arm and gave him a slight squeeze. She turned her gaze to Mateo. "Signore Savino has been nothing but kind to me. Please, as a personal favour, keep the conversation as pleasant as possible."

She held Mateo's gaze, and eventually saw a slight softening in the deep brown depths. She knew it was for her sake alone and her heart stuttered over the meaning of it. The power she could wield with this man… if only she would allow him into her life.

Mateo bowed his head toward her and looked at Giovanni. "I apologize if I come across as short. I’m eager to reunite Raina with her family. Her mother has been beside herself with concern when she found out about the shooting."

"My mother knows?" Raina gasped in dismay.

She hadn't spent a lot of time with Vee in Venezuela but in the short amount of time that they'd spent together Raina had learned how completely and unreservedly protective her mother was of her. It was a disaster, Vee knowing that Raina had been hurt. It threw the entire Italian episode into a more sinister light. If Vee felt that Mateo couldn’t get Raina back, she wouldn’t hesitate to call in favours. To ask her husband to come after the people that had hurt her daughter.

Raina turned to Giovanni. "If my mother knows about the shooting, then that means Sotza is involved. Your son is in grave danger."

Giovanni nodded and patted her hand where it lay on his arm. "I had guessed as much when you showed up in this club demanding to see me. My son is in a safe place, I’m not worried for his safety at the moment. I had hoped we could find a way through this mess that might preserve his life.”

Raina finally realized exactly why Giovanni had decided that she should marry his son. He believed that in making her his daughter-in-law, he was providing his son with immunity from Sotza's wrath. Though Raina didn't know Sotza very well, she knew enough to understand that if someone hurt her, it didn't matter what their relation was. He would kill them as easily as he would kill a stranger, perhaps even easier.

"You’re in luck," Mateo drawled, watching the mini drama from across the table. "Sotza is trusting me with these negotiations. He believes that I will find a way to return Raina to her family, punish those that hurt her and keep the peace between our organizations."

Raina rather thought that was an impossible list to reconcile, but she admired Mateo’s self-confidence. He certainly believed himself capable.

"And how do you suggest punishing the perpetrator of Raina’s injury without going to war?" Giovanni asked.

"You will be required to hand him over to us as a sign of good faith and justice." Mateo said it as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Raina's gaze swiveled back to Giovanni. Giovanni brought his hand down on the table, not hard enough to knock over drinks, but with enough force to emphasize his point. "Of course, you know that I will never hand over my only child. This is a ridiculous suggestion and if you continue to insist on the impossible then these negotiations will end."

Mateo shifted his shoulders slightly, not quite a shrug, but enough to give the impression of carelessness. "You’ll do as you think best. But once Raina is safely away, we will go to war with you and that war will not end until I have your son’s head in the box and on its way back to Venezuela where her mother will gleefully receive it."

"No!" Giovanni snapped. "You will not come into my club, in my city and make such demands. You will show me respect or I will have you all killed and sent back to Venezuela in pieces."

Giovanni moved his arm away from Raina's touch, showing her that he was including her in that last statement. Her mouth went dry and her heart sank.

What was Mateo doing? Why was he setting the older man off, unbalancing him? She had to believe that there was some rhyme or reason to this madness. The Mateo that she knew always had a strategy and she suspected this was no different. She just wished that she was in on it.

Mateo didn't speak again after Giovanni's threat. He let it hang there, as though showing everyone in the room that he was in control and Giovanni was being ruled by his emotions. Clever. Raina thought perhaps Mateo was trying to undermine Giovanni in front of his people. At least half a dozen men stood off to the side pretending not to listen.

As if coming to the same realization, Giovanni looked at Mateo speculatively. His voice was back to its normal tone as he said, "Perhaps we come to another agreement, one that will be mutually beneficial to both of our organizations."

Mateo shook his head. "You have nothing that we’re interested in. Business is good in the Americas and the Butcher wants no more partners." Raina thought that he dropped Sotza's nickname on purpose, especially coming on the heels of Giovanni's chilling threat.

"I’m not suggesting a partnership, more of a merger. A marriage, between our two children, our two houses." Giovanni looked proud of himself for coming up with the solution. He didn't see Mateo stiffen in his seat, his hand twitching against his glass. "Our two organizations are extremely powerful on their own, if we merge then we could be unstoppable. We would have half the world at our fingertips. It is not a thing to be taken lightly."

"No." Mateo said the word with a simple finality. He didn't say anything else.

Giovanni ignored Mateo's denial. "Of course, you’ll need to take my proposal to your boss. I am confident that he will see the sense in it."

"I have no need to take your proposal anywhere. It won’t leave this table. Raina is engaged to another and no amount of negotiating will change this."

Giovanni looked at Raina in surprise. "She told me nothing of this when we spoke last night." His voice was chiding.

Raina gritted her teeth. Was now a good time to speak, set the record straight? Was a woman actually engaged if she had no intention of marrying the man? Perhaps she should get up excuse herself, go to the washroom and slip out. It had worked in the animal clinic; it could work in the nightclub.

There is a slight lift to Mateo's lips. "The young lady is taking her time in reconciling herself to the idea of marriage."

Raina had no choice but to roll her eyes at that. "Sure, it's the marriage I object to," she said sarcastically.

"And who exactly is the lucky groom?" Giovanni asked thoughtfully.

"Me," Mateo said simply.

"Of course," Giovanni said. He shrugged his shoulders in a negligent manner. "A natural pairing that will tie up an empire nicely."

Giovanni echoed Raina's earlier thoughts. The trapped feeling that she got whenever she thought about being forced to live out her life as a mafia wife.

"I have become attached to this young lady. I will, of course, hand her over unharmed. But I must insist on one more night with her. The idea of a young person in the house again gives me comfort."

"Absolutely not," Mateo said quickly. “I’m not leaving here without her.”

Raina looked from one man to the other. She didn’t really want to stay with Giovanni for one more night in his creepy old mansion, but she also didn't want to deal with Mateo, who would put her on instant lockdown and have her every move watched. She’d have a better chance of slipping away from the high-security mansion then her would-be fiancé.

“You won’t be leaving here at all if you don’t allow this condition,” Giovanni drawled coldly, his eyes chips of ice. “Do you really want your future wife drawn into a gun fight?”

Raina’s heart pounded in her chest as every man and woman in the club tensed, awaiting Mateo’s response.

Mateo stared back at Giovanni as though they were the only two people in the room. Finally, Mateo gave a short jerk of his head. Though he spoke to Giovanni, his intense gaze moved to Raina as if burning her features into his memory. “You will hand her over in the morning. If not, then I will consider us at war.”

"Good, that’s settled then,” Giovanni said jovially pushing his chair back and standing. He reached a hand out to Raina, helping her from her seat. "I will have her delivered to you tomorrow morning in your hotel suite at 10 AM sharp."

Waves of tension flowed from Mateo as she and Giovanni turned away from the table and left the club. Raina shivered and wondered what would happen between them when she no longer had Giovanni as a buffer.

11

Raina sat stiffly in the back of Giovanni's limo as they headed back to the mansion. She glared out the window ignoring the passing scenery.

"You seem agitated," Giovanni commented.

She turned her glare on him. "I get that way when people threaten to chop me up and send me back to my parents in pieces."

Giovanni chuckled and reached out to pat her hand. "Posturing, my dear. Your suitor back there would have respected me less had I simply given in to his demands. He was posturing as well. He knew damn well I wouldn’t give my son up to him."

Raina thought that there was rather a lot of wiggle room between handing her over to Mateo or mailing her home in pieces. She didn't particularly like either option, but she knew which one she would choose if she had to.

"Would you have me killed if you believed it necessary? If you believed you had the upper hand with my stepfather and Mateo?"

To his credit, and though it chilled her to the bone, Giovanni actually gave thought to her questions. Finally, he shook his head. "No, I don't believe I would. Perhaps it’s my age, perhaps it’s your age and the fact that you are a woman. But the idea of snuffing out your light is untenable to me. I feel invested in your future now, though you have brought this problem to me."

Raina blushed. Everything that had happened to her in the past few days had been a blur. She hadn't really stopped to think about the consequences of her actions. Giovanni was such a force of nature, head of the Italian mafia. How could she hurt him? But he was still human, still capable of emotion. It had to bother him knowing that his son's life was in danger.

"Did you decide to keep me with you tonight as insurance so that Mateo won't go after Antonio?"

"You are a smart one, aren't you?" Giovanni said with a laugh, patting her hand again. "Though I do enjoy your company, your presence will ensure Antonio’s safety for another day until I can get him out of the country and hidden from Mateo. Your young man has quite a bloody reputation, one that rivals even his boss. Gutierrez is an unparalleled hunter and he doesn't quit. Two skills that I would love to have on my payroll but has also put me in a quandary. To be completely honest, if I thought I could get away with it, I would have Gutierrez taken out while he is here in my city. But that would put me at war with your stepfather, not something I'm sure I could win."

Raina was shocked with how candid Giovanni was being with her. She supposed he no longer needed to keep anything from her. They both knew the score now.

"Did you ever intend for me to marry your son, or were you trying to frighten me?" she asked curiously. The idea was clearly off the table now, but she wanted to know how serious Giovanni had been about it.

He shrugged. "It would have been a good merger. But no, I don’t believe a marriage between you and my son is appropriate at this time. One or both of you would end up dead and I’ve become rather fond of you."

Raina let out a laugh. Giovanni had a gift for both overstatement and understatement that she was beginning to appreciate. She liked the Italian Godfather and thought she might miss him when she left. Perhaps he would allow her to come back to Italy for a visit sometime.

"So, for now, we get to enjoy each other's company for one more evening. You will indulge my desire for company, will you not?" he asked, attempting to look rather pathetic. An attempt that didn’t work on Raina given his expensive clothes, jewelry and overall attitude of arrogance.

"Of course," Raina said warmly. Now that she was comfortable in the knowledge that he wouldn't try to have her killed or hand her over to his son in marriage, she was willing to relax and enjoy his company for an evening.

"Tomorrow," he said, giving her a wink, "we will work on extricating you from Italy and continuing your adventure."

Raina grinned at Giovanni. She suspected that she had made a lifelong friend and ally in one of the most powerful men in the world.

12

Sotza was not pleased that his second-in-command hadn’t managed to retrieve his stepdaughter. Vee was even less pleased.

"There was absolutely no excuse to have left that club without my daughter." Vee’s voice echoed sharply through the room.

Mateo’s phone sat propped up on the nightstand on speakerphone. He was laying stretched out on the bed, his arms behind his head, his eyes closed. He was not relaxed though. He was thinking. He didn't trust Savino, didn't trust the man to hand Raina over. Mateo believed he had another plan.

"There were no less than a dozen of Savino’s men inside and outside the club. Had I brought everyone on hand with me, they wouldn't have been enough to get us all out alive. Raina might have been shot during the standoff. I had no choice but to allow Savino to leave with her."

“I don’t believe that. You’re supposed to be a professional, Mateo, and you’re telling me that you couldn’t extricate one girl from Italy. Incompetent - ” Mateo tuned Vee out as she continued on her angry tirade.

Mateo was steadily losing patience with Vee. Only two things kept him from going on the offensive with her; his employer would have him killed and Mateo loved her daughter. He refused to do anything to harm Raina, even indirectly. She would never forgive Mateo if he went after her mother. Which left Mateo to suffer the woman's disrespect.

"You made the correct choice." Sotza interrupted his Vee.

He was used to stepping in between his wife and his second-in-command. From the moment Vee helped her daughter leave the Venezuelan mountains, helped her leave Mateo, she’d made an enemy of him. Sotza cared for them both and tried to keep the peace, though it tested his already thin patience.

Focusing on his boss, Mateo said, "I have people near Savino’s estate where the guards won't see them. Ready to storm the place if it seems like Raina might be in any danger, though I got the sense that Savino feels somewhat paternal toward her."

"Good enough for now," Sotza said.

"Not good enough!" Vee snarled into the phone. "I need to hear her voice, know that she’s alive and well."

"My word is good enough," Mateo snarled back. There was only so much he was willing to take from the woman and insulting him at every turn was unacceptable. She acted as though he wasn't just as invested in keeping Raina alive.

There was some unintelligible mumbling from the other side of the phone, then the slam of the door, loud enough that even Mateo’s phone jumped. He smirked. Señora Sotza had left the office.

"Between you and me, my wife will not be happy again until she sets eyes on her daughter. Get the girl and bring her home. Do not delay if you can help it." What he didn't say was that his marriage would not be a happy one until Vee got what she wanted.

Mateo didn't envy the other man his choice of wife, but he got it. Despite his better judgement, Mateo was hopelessly fucked up over the daughter. And the daughter was very like the mother. It was a mystery to him how he could love one and despise the other. But he wasn't the type of guy to look too deeply at himself and his motives. He lived his life the best way he knew how. And what he knew was that having Raina in his life would complete him.

"I’ll bring her home, you have my word," Mateo told his boss.

"I have full confidence," Sotza said calmly, and they both knew it was true. Mateo would not be Sotza’s second if Sotza didn't trust him completely and utterly.

A slight smirk curled the edge of Mateo's lip. "You can tell your wife to prepare for a wedding. A happy occasion should put her in a better mood, don't you think?"

"You enjoy testing my patience." There was humour in Sotza’s voice. "My wife would gut me with her new dagger if I so much as suggested her daughter might be marrying into the organization."

Mateo opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. "It's a fact. Best she prepare herself. I will be marrying Raina."

As soon as he could get his hands on her.

13

Once again Raina slept well in Giovanni's mansion. She was growing more comfortable around Giovanni and his home. It was almost a shame that she had to leave. She suspected that spending more time with the proud Italian would give her a real glimpse of Italy. With that in mind, she decided to try to convince him to let her visit sometime in the future.

She pulled herself from the bed, wincing as her back muscles pulled on her stitches. The healing process was going to be long and painful, but she was grateful that no permanent damage had been done. It could've been much, much worse.

There was a pile of clothing for her on one of the chairs. She pulled them on one at a time, grateful that a dress had been chosen for her because it was so much easier on her injury. She could pull it over her head and tug it down, she didn't have to deal with a waistband pressing against her bandage.

She brushed her teeth and ran a comb through her blonde hair. She eyed it critically in the mirror. It was getting long again and she preferred to keep it around shoulder length. Her hair was fine and there was a lot of it. It tended towards the curly side and would get hopelessly tangled if she wasn't brushing it often. She placed the comb on the counter, gave her appearance one more critical look, and left the bathroom.

She meandered down the stairs slowly, lightly touching her fingers against the banister and looking around her as she descended. The house was definitely much less gloomy during the day. The darker furnishings, the austere pictures on the wall, there was a certain charm to them. Though she wouldn't want them in her own home, they suited Giovanni.

She found him at the dining room table, which had been uncovered and dusted off. On his placemat was a plate with toast, a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee next to his elbow. Spread out in front of him was a newspaper. He looked up and caught sight of her, a smile stretching his lips.

"I’m going to miss you when you’re gone, bella." He folded the newspaper and set it aside. "You have brought life to my home. I’ve always been careful of who I allow inside, becoming guarded throughout the years. It was necessary, as I have many enemies, but still, you’re like a breeze of fresh air in this place."

Raina sank into the chair beside him and smiled. They had only known each other for two days, yet they seemed to have forged an unlikely friendship. The Italian Godfather and the young daughter of American mafia royalty. The child of farmers. She felt an appreciation for Giovanni. Though he was somewhat old-fashioned, quite arrogant, and liked to have his own way, he wasn't completely unreasonable. He’d helped her when she needed him. She was grateful and always would be.

"I've been thinking about that," she said, reaching for the pile of toast and taking one off the top. It was still warm to the touch, butter making it soft. She placed it on a plate in front of her and spread jam on it. "Maybe we could see each other again sometime."

She felt as though there were a connection between her and Giovanni. Completely platonic, but kindred spirits. The thought of never seeing him again was depressing.

"I would like that very much," Giovanni reassured her. "You’re welcome in my home anytime you want, my dear. Even if you bring a boatload of trouble with you."

Raina didn't bother to point out that it was Giovanni's own son that had started the boatload of trouble. She glanced down at the time on her phone. It was 9:28 AM. She was expected in Mateo's hotel suite soon. She would have to leave the house right away if she wanted to get there on time.

Giovanni seemed to sense her mood and reached out to squeeze her hand. He studied her thoughtfully. "I’m curious about your feelings towards the young man that professes himself your fiancé."

Raina's heart sped up as an image of Mateo flashed through her mind. As always, her feelings were conflicted. Part of her wanted him desperately, wanted the dark power that he possessed, that rock solid body, the devotion that he offered her. But the rest of her shied away from the idea of marriage to a man as entrenched in the mafia as Mateo was.

"I can tell by your expression that you’re not sure of your feelings. Do you want to go to him? Do you want to leave Italy with him? Go back to your stepfather?" He studied her carefully as she thought about it.

"I don't know," she murmured. She spoke her thoughts out loud. "On the one hand I would love to see my mother again. But doing that means going back to Venezuela and facing a wedding that I'm not sure about, that I haven't agreed to."

"And this wedding, "Giovanni said. "It is something that you do not want?"

Raina shook her head. "I don't know. I… I feel like I'm too young to get married. I haven't seen enough of the world. I don't know what the future holds and I fear if I marry Mateo, I’ll never get a say in my own future. I'm not afraid of my feelings for him and there are some very strong feelings. No, I'm terrified of what the future holds. I'm not quite ready to face it yet."

Giovanni nodded thoughtfully. He picked up the napkin that was across his lap and dabbed his lips then dropped it on the table. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Raina, but his gaze was in a different place, maybe thinking of a different person.

He confirmed her thoughts with his next words. "My wife, Antonia, was very young when we married. Nineteen years. She was so beautiful, so bright, so full of life. She was thirty-four when she died."

Raina could hear the longing and the love in his voice and it made her heart ache with sympathy. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Giovanni."

"It’s been many years since I lost her and I still see her face in my head as clear as day. She might have left me, but I haven’t lost her." Giovanni stopped for a few seconds, overcome by emotion. He gathered himself. Raina surreptitiously swiped at her eyes. "Ours was an arranged marriage but we were happy."

Raina believed that he was trying to tell her something. Perhaps it was that her and Mateo's passion might overcome the origin of their relationship. That their story could end as happily as Giovanni’s and Antonia's.

Giovanni's eyes sharpened, away from the past as he looked toward the present again. "We married too young. There were too many things that we both should have done before we settled down. And though ours was a great love, I have many regrets. I didn't treat her as well as I should have. I didn't have the patience for my family, didn’t spend enough time with them. As evidenced by the way my son has treated you. My wife should’ve been given many more years of freedom before she was tied to the mob."

Giovanni reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled something out. He placed it on the table in front of Raina. She recognized it instantly, because she had made many forgeries of these documents before.

"A passport." She reached for the document and flipped it open. It was a replica of her old passport photo, the one that would have been in her studio apartment when Antonio's men had shot it up. The passport looked completely legitimate, though she knew it was a skilled forgery.

"You will use this to go anywhere in the world that you want." Giovanni reached out to take her wrist in a tight hold. His hand was as tense as his voice when he spoke. "You must choose very carefully where you will go, because Mateo Gutierrez will be directly on your heels. He doesn’t like to lose and he’s world renowned for his tracking abilities."

Raina looked at Giovanni with a smile filled with relief and happiness. She wouldn't have to make a decision about Mateo. At least not right now.

"I've managed to elude him for two years, I've no doubt that I can get myself lost somewhere in this world."

Giovanni shook his head and waved his hand in the air. "I’ve known of Gutierrez’s reputation for a long time now. Had I been able to employ him I would have. But your stepfather keeps him close at hand, utilizing his skills only for himself and the Sotza Empire. Mateo is the best tracker in the world. He’s unparalleled. I have heard that his skill is like magic, the uncanny ability to know where his victims are hiding."

A chill slithered down Raina’s spine. "Then that would mean that he always knew where I was. That he chose to allow me to travel the world for those two years. That he has now chosen to come and collect me."

Raina wanted Giovanni to deny her words, to tell her that wasn’t Mateo's plan. That somehow he managed to find her in the nick of time to stop Antonio's men from killing her. She knew better. She'd been stupid to think otherwise. Naïve.

"He will find you wherever you choose to go next. That is why I implore you to choose carefully. Don’t try to hide or evade him, because it won't work. He'll find you, he'll scoop you up and he'll take you home. If you wish to make the most of the few days you have left of freedom, choose a destination that truly means something to you."

Wise words, Raina thought to herself. Where should she go? If Mateo was going to follow her, then maybe she should give up and hand herself over. Because there was a part of her heart that was in Venezuela, that longed to go back.

Then it hit her. She knew exactly where she was going to go and it wasn't straight into Mateo's arms. Not yet. That was a future problem. She was going to run one more time, with Giovanni's help.

Then another thought occurred to her. She looked at Giovanni with concern. "Your son."

She didn't say more than that, she didn't need to. Giovanni had told them that his son was hidden away and Mateo wouldn't find him. But today he was telling her that Mateo could track anyone. And Giovanni was about to lose Raina as his leverage.

Giovanni seemed to slump in his seat, aging somewhat. He was about to lose his only child and there was nothing he could do but stand by and accept the loss, because his son had committed the grave error of attempting to kill Sotza’s princess.

Raina's heart ached for him and for the decisions he'd had to make in the past few days. He was an intelligent man. He probably realized from the moment he intended to let Raina go that he was signing his own child's death warrant. She didn't understand why he didn't fight harder for the life of his son and it wasn't her place to ask him.

Giovanni leaned over and kissed her cheek before sitting back in his seat. "God speed on your journey, my young friend."

14

Mateo was lying on his hotel bed fully clothed, his legs stretched out, his arms over his head, his hands tucked under his biceps. It was a deceptively lazy pose. Deceptive because the coiled tension running through him meant he could be on his feet in a split second. He was not relaxed. He was annoyed, bordering on angry.

It was 10:05 AM and Raina had not been delivered to his hotel room as promised. Apparently, Giovanni was not afraid of playing him, a mistake that would cost the old man dearly. Mateo didn’t deal well with hitches in his plans and so far, Italy had been a complete clusterfuck.

In fact, when Mateo really thought about it, he realized that the common denominator was Raina. If Mateo were to be honest with himself, he would've realized from the moment he set hands on her that she was going to throw a huge wrench into his life. That day, more than two years ago, when he had first seen her, his whole world had turned upside down. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, her energy and joy in life so fucking attractive, that he'd lost all sense. In reality he didn't know if she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but to him she was the gold standard.

And touching her, fucking touching that soft skin, it'd gone straight to his head. He'd forgotten who he was and what he was doing there, that he was supposed to be picking up the daughter of his boss’s new love interest. It should have been a simple chore, almost beneath him. But that day Raina had shown him exactly how not beneath him she was.

She turned on him in an instant, like a wildcat, fighting for her freedom. He'd been so stunned by her he almost hadn't reacted quickly enough. Of course, she had been no match for him, but the struggle had been sweet. Her slim curves wiggling underneath him, her scent invading his nostrils. The only thing that had stopped him from fucking her into the ground right then and there was the campus security guard who stumbled upon them.

Reflecting back, Mateo was grateful for that interruption. That hadn't been the time, nor the place. But their time was coming soon, very soon.

If he could only find the damn woman. He was getting tired of losing her. He picked up his phone and commanded it to call Giovanni Savino’s number.

Giovanni picked up on the first ring. "Gutierrez," Giovanni said jovially enough. "I've been expecting your call."

"It's after 10." Mateo didn't bother with pleasantries. There would be no point if he had to kill the other man. "Tell me where my woman is."

Since Mateo was being blunt, Giovanni decided to give him the same respect. "Your young Ms. Duncan is no longer in Italy."

Mateo quickly calculated the complexities of this new situation. If Raina was no longer in Italy, then Giovanni no longer had leverage over Mateo. He was essentially unleashing the younger man and inviting him to come and destroy his home. The only way that Giovanni would take such a risk is if he believed he might be able to gain the upper hand. Go on the offensive.

Mateo slid his hand from behind his head and underneath his pillow gripping his gun and pulling it out. "You’ve decided not to honour our agreement," Mateo stated.

“I have warned my son,” Giovanni said, his voice betraying a hint of worry. “He is my blood.”

Mateo stood and reached for his holster which was slung across his leather jacket on the back of the hotel chair. With quick efficient movements he pulled the holster on. He pulled his second gun from the holster. He placed each weapon on the table, strapped his knife to his belt and shoved his taser in his other pocket. Though Mateo was right-handed, he'd spent many years teaching himself to be equally as efficient with both hands. He was an excellent shot with both his right and his left hand. He could gut a man in seconds with either hand. And the taser was just for fun.

"I apologize for coming across as unprofessional," Giovanni said formally. "I don't usually play such games, nor do I condone them. But for the sake of both my son and the young lady I decided to renegotiate terms."

"You let her go." Mateo was relieved.

When Giovanni said that she was no longer in Italy, Mateo had been concerned that Giovanni had done something to her. Perhaps passed her along to his son. Mateo had seen Raina's and Giovanni's interactions and had come to the conclusion that the two had bonded. He was glad that that seemed to be the case.

"Raina reminds me of the daughter I never had but always wanted. Free-spirited, lovely inside and out, sharp as a tack and able to use her intelligence as a weapon. I’ve come to admire her. It seemed a shame to force her into a marriage that she doesn't want."

Mateo was surprised by the other man's assessment of Raina. He wasn't wrong. In fact, he had described her perfectly. But it took perception to see these things in another person. And in Mateo's experience most people weren't perceptive enough to pay attention to their environment, let alone the complexities of the people around them. Raina was young, and impetuous, it would be easy to write her personality off as youthful arrogance. But there was so much more to her than that.

While Giovanni spoke, Mateo prepared his things, packing his bag and making sure every weapon he had was on hand. He sent a quick text to his people letting them know that they were about to be attacked. He sent them coordinates for meeting and told them to scatter and re-converge in an hour. As per Mateo’s long-standing rule, every member of his team texted back with a thumb’s up, telling him they were all alive.

They didn’t question his order. And though they were protective of him, treating him like the boss when they were with Mateo instead of Sotza, he was still head of the security team.

"Well you may have come to understand Raina's personality, I don't believe that you understand what she needs. The more she runs, the more likely she is to get herself into trouble. And next time, I may not be able to make it in time to save her from the Antonios of the world."

Mateo's words must've hit home, because the older man sucked in a deep breath, almost a gasp. He'd been part of the mafia long enough to read between the lines. Mateo blamed both Antonio and Giovanni for what happened to Raina. Raina's departure from Italy opened the door for Mateo to do what he needed to do to ensure that the entire underworld knew that a threat to his woman was a threat to him and Sotza's entire organization.

"My son did a very stupid thing by going after Raina. Regardless of who her family is, I would never condone his actions. He hired her to do a job and then he double-crossed her. I assure you I taught him better." Giovanni sounded exhausted all of a sudden. “He has grown too arrogant for his role as my successor.”

"You’re stalling." The older man was keeping Mateo on the phone and he was doing it for a reason. He was giving Antonio and his men time.

Mateo stood to the side of his door, his guns at the ready.

"As are you," Giovanni said coldly.

It was true. Mateo needed to ensure that everything was in place before he confronted Antonio’s team, the one he would’ve mobilized when his father warned him that Mateo would be coming after him. They were either on their way or here already. Mateo hoped that his own team had managed to leave the hotel, that he'd gotten them the message in time.

Mateo dropped to one knee and reached up to unlock the door. The click of the latch was like the starting shot of a race; within seconds all hell broke loose.

The door smashed open banging into the wall. Two huge men came crashing through the door guns blazing. It pissed Matteo off that they didn't seem to care what the fuck they hit. What if housekeeping had been in the room?

He heard the lamp shatter, the TV explode, and bullets thunking into the furniture and the walls. Fucking unprofessional. If Mateo wasn't planning on killing them, he'd be having a long conversation with them about the etiquette of gunplay.

Mateo lunged to his feet behind them and put a bullet in each of their heads. They both died instantly, hitting the ground in unison. For Mateo, killing was poetry. It had a certain flow to it that appealed to him.

His phone was still on speaker and Giovanni's voice was sharp and agitated. "Antonio, Antonio, mio bambino, are you there?"

Mateo held the phone up to his face as he glanced around the corner and into the hallway. There was no one out there, though he was certain there would men in the building, more for him to kill. "I'm still here," Mateo said, his lip lifting in a sneer. "You can tell your son I'm coming for him."

15

Twelve hours and one connection after her conversation with Giovanni and Raina was touching down in Pennsylvania, her home state. She thought coming back to Pennsylvania would give a sense of coming home. It had been over two years since she was kidnapped from her University campus and this was her first time back.

As she gazed out her window, she felt a sense of nostalgia, but not home. Maybe the home feelings would come back to her when she was back with her mom and dad, in their farmhouse. Or maybe she had outgrown her home. She grew up there, but she knew at a young age that she was adopted. It wasn't something that her mom and dad told her, because they would never want to hurt her, but more a deep-seated knowledge that she wasn't blood-related to them.

And while blood shouldn't matter, unfortunately, as Raina grew from a small child into her teens it came to matter to the Duncan family. At age nine, Raina was diagnosed with kidney failure. She went on dialysis for three years, and when she turned twelve, she was deemed old enough, or desperate enough, to receive a lifesaving transplant.

It wasn't until she had met Elvira, her birth mother, that she realized who the kidney donor had been. She'd seen the scar on her mother’s back; a scar that matched Raina’s.

If Joe and Diane have been able to donate a kidney to Raina, she was positive that they would've handed over every single kidney they had between the two of them. That was how much her adoptive parents loved her. And she loved them back. Wholeheartedly, unreservedly and without question. Even when Raina found out that they were also mob-affiliated, it hadn't changed the way she felt about them. They were her parents and that would never change.

Sometimes Raina felt a slight sense of guilt that she couldn't give them exactly what they wanted in a child. Not that they ever told her otherwise, but she knew, deep down, that they'd wanted a daughter a little more like them. One with both feet and a brain planted in reality. A child that didn't long to explore the world and everything in it. A child that wouldn't use her intelligence for illegal gain.

From the moment Raina learned that forging documents was a thing, she'd been in whole hog. Something about the fine detail, the subterfuge and outsmarting the authorities called to her when she worked. It was something she didn't want to lose and tried to work on as often as she could. Something that she tried to keep from Joe and Diane, but she suspected she failed.

Raina was deep in thought when the plane finally taxied to a halt. She snapped back to attention when the people all around her began to stand, stretch and reach for the overhead bins. Raina waited until it was her turn to disembark before she stood, grabbed her purse from under the seat in front of her and her overnight bag from the bin above. Her back jolted in pain as she reached up, reminding her of her recent injury.

It felt so strange being back in the United States, back at the airport where she’d taken her very first flight as a child. They’d flown to Philadelphia for her kidney consultations. Raina had loved going to the big city. She’d felt important and special.

Raina followed the lineup of people ahead of her off the airplane, into the airwalk and through the airport towards arrivals.

Raina hadn't told anyone that she was coming, just in case something happened to her plans. Like Mateo somehow finding and stopping her. So she was completely unprepared for the sight of her loved ones when she walked through the sliding frosted doors. When they caught sight of her, they made an unholy amount of noise, drawing attention from the people around them.

Raina grinned from ear to ear and threw herself at her parents. They enveloped her completely between the two of them. They were both taller and wider than her, so it wasn't a difficult thing to do. After a long family hug, then separate hugs for each of her parents, Raina turned to her two best friends, Cass and Noah.

Cass squealed and squeezed Raina so hard that she had to fight for air. Cass’s long curly brown hair surrounded them in a cloud. The second Cass let go, Noah snatched Raina off her feet swung her around, crushing her in a bear hug. She yelped as her back twinged but didn’t demand he put her down. It felt good getting a Noah hug. This was how Noah had always greeted her and Cass when he hadn't seen them in a while.

She squeezed him extra hard and then let go. She studied him for a second, admiring the way his features seem to be growing out of their youthful roundness. He was a man and a good-looking one at that.

"How did you know I was coming?" Raina asked happily, her arms around Cass and Noah as she turned back to her parents.

Joe took Raina's overnight bag while Diane answered her question. "Mateo told us," she said as if that explained everything.

Raina blinked and tried to make sense of what her mother had said. Since when were her parents on a first name basis with Sotza’s second-in-command?

They made their way toward the baggage claim and as they walked, Diane answered her unspoken question. "The night that we left with you from Venezuela in the helicopter, he was following close behind. It was very shortly after we put you on a plane to Beijing that he… met with us."

Diane cast a glance toward Cass and Noah. Cass was watching Raina and her parents carefully, as though she sensed that she had missed something very important in Raina's life. Diane was being careful as she talked, making it sound as though Mateo was simply a family friend instead of the man who probably confronted and terrorized her parents. A shiver ran through her.

"But he didn't follow me to Beijing?" Raina asked thoughtfully.

"I think Mateo saw the wisdom in allowing you to follow your plan of travelling the world. You were too young for a boyfriend… of his age." Joe spoke this time, his voice less tearful than Diane's. Raina studied him carefully. Though he seemed happy to have her back, he also seemed different. Aged somehow.

Raina's heart broke as she realized the impact of the last few years on her family and friends. Cass and Noah had probably been given some kind of story about her travelling the world. It was a miracle they even still cared enough about her to show up at the airport given she hadn't been able to speak to them. She'd essentially been in hiding. She hadn't really spoken to anyone except her birth mother, who had assured her that she was passing on messages to Joe and Diane. While Raina had been enjoying her time exploring city after city, country after country, her friends and family had been suffering.

She would have to find a way to make it up to them. But for now, she was exhausted and truly happy to be home.

They collected her bags and made their way out of the airport, driving back toward the farm, which was about forty-five minutes away. They dropped Cass and Noah off at their home in the town closest to the farm. The three of them agreed that they would see each other the next day. Then Raina watched with curiosity as the other two made their way inside the same apartment building. Was something going on between them? Maybe they were roommates? Maybe they had separate apartments in the same building? The apartment building wasn't a place that Raina had ever visited before. It made sense that Cass and Noah would move out from home. Both were the same age as her, twenty-one.

As Raina, Joe and Diane drove out toward the farm, Raina was able to speak freely. She spoke with enthusiasm of all the places she visited, all the things she’d done. They were an avid audience and some of Joe's heaviness seem to lift as she spoke, as he realized that Raina hadn’t been suffering, that she had been safe and happy while away from them.

"It's so wonderful to hear you speak of your adventures. Of course, we always knew where you were. Mateo kept us updated every step of the way. In fact, he would call at least once a week. It helped, knowing that someone like him was keeping an eye on you," Diane said with a smile and an obvious soft spot for a hardened killer.

Raina was stunned. Not only had Mateo known about Beijing, but, as Giovanni had suggested, it was starting to sound like he'd known where she was the entire time she was gone. She’d had no reason to look over her shoulder constantly as she travelled because he'd been with her every step of the way. Maybe not physically, although she'd bet money that he had people on her.

While a part of her had suspected, actually knowing how close he was the entire time pissed her off. She’d never really been free. She'd only been given a couple more feet of leash. He could've picked her up at any time. And why the fuck was he talking to her parents once a week?

"He's not a good person, mom. He's dangerous and you should keep your distance from him," she snapped, glaring out the window as they pulled into the farmyard.

Diane seem taken aback by Raina's vehemence. Raina was usually pretty even-tempered. She would always stand up for herself if she thought there was a need, but she rarely snapped at anyone. Mateo brought the worst out in her.

"We know he's dangerous, dear," Diane said dryly, as though Raina was speaking the obvious. Diane and Joe knew exactly who Mateo was and the organization that he was affiliated with. They’d been involved in a similar scene in Miami before adopting Raina and moving to Pennsylvania. "But I won't pretend that I'm not grateful to him for ensuring your safety and for keeping us updated. If it weren't for that we would've been out of our minds with worry."

Raina's annoyance melted away and she reached out to take Diane's hand. "I'm sorry, mom. I should've called. But I thought I was being watched; I didn't think I could be in contact with anyone without them picking me up. Now I know it wasn't necessary."

Diane waved her hand in front of them as if the waving away Raina's words. "You have nothing to be sorry for. From the moment you were taken and reunited with your mother, things were out of your hands. We've always loved you and that will never change. You were doing what you thought was best."

Raina's eyes misted over. Her parents were the definition of unconditional love. It didn't matter what she did, how badly she screwed up, they would never blame her. Which is why she felt so protective of them. People who could think, feel and act the way Joe and Diane did were rare in her opinion and she would do whatever it took to protect the love that the three of them had for each other.

They carried Raina’s things into the farmhouse, dumping the suitcases by the door. Joe would carry them to Raina's old bedroom later, after the three of them had a good visit and maybe watched some TV. Now that Raina realized the extent of Mateo’s relationship with her parents, she knew that he wouldn’t be far behind.

She didn't know what he intended to do with her after that; whether he'd allow her to have her visit or drag her straight back to Venezuela. So, she would have to make the most of her time with her family and friends. She was done running. This was it. Her standoff on her home ground.

"What's for supper?" she asked happily following her mom through the front entrance and into the kitchen.

16

Raina examined herself in the mirror in her childhood bedroom at her parent’s farm. She looked pretty damn hot, if she did say so herself. She had flat ironed her hair until it was straight as a stick and sitting about halfway down her back. It was normally a wavy curly, but sometimes she liked the look of another style. It made her feel chic and different. Like a woman about to have a night on the town, even if the town had a population of only 3000 people.

They were going to a country bar; the only real bar in the area.

Raina was wearing a pair of tight black skinny jeans with rips in the thighs and knees. The jeans were about three years old, left behind from when she went to college. They still fit perfectly and gave her some extra confidence. Raina was small boned, small featured, short, and well, pretty much small all over. Including her ass. But somehow, through magic unknown to her, the jeans gave her a real ass, lifted up, and stuck it right out there. She couldn't wait until some cowboy filled his hands with it.

She also wore an off-the-shoulder red peasant blouse and a pair of genuine cowboy boots. She never really needed them, and to be completely honest, she had bought them for the country bar scene a few years ago. But they were gorgeous and she wasn't going to let their lack of authenticity stop them from shining. She loved them for their brown leather, heels, and rhinestones.

"You make that look good," Cass said, breezing into Raina's room and flopping down on the bed.

It was like old times and it made Raina smile with gratitude. It was like she never left. Everyone was treating her as though she'd only been gone on a vacation, not left for two years without a word.

"I know, right? Don't you love the boots?" Raina stuck her foot out for Cass to see.

"You've never touched a cow in your life, unless it came in burger form," Cass pointed out.

"Shush!" Raina laughed. "The boots don't know that."

Cass and Raina talked about what they were wearing, where they were going and who they might see there. Raina sat at her desk with a small mirror propped up against her lamp and applied her makeup. Raina rarely wore very much make up, though she liked the effect of making her features look more sophisticated. She put a bit more effort in for their evening out.

"I think Evan, Darcy and Dwayne are going to be out tonight. Darcy had a thing for you, didn't he?" Cass asked with fake innocence.

Raina didn't say anything. Yes, Darcy had had a thing for Raina and had never kept it much of the secret. At one point in her life, she'd indulged in a few fantasies about him. Of throwing his cowboy ass onto a hay bale and climbing on top of him. But she was smart enough to know that the reality probably wouldn’t match the fantasy. That big cowboy was best left locked up in fantasyland.

Being involved in the underworld, the way she'd been dragged into it, changed her perspective on everything. Darcy, the town she grew up in, the farmhouse, it all seemed so innocent to her now. It was like all those things were now a part of her childhood, neatly packaged and set aside to examine when she felt nostalgic. This place was no longer her reality, and like Alice in Wonderland, she couldn’t stay.

When Raina finished putting on her lip gloss, she pressed her lips together and turned to face Cass. "Time to go?" She stood up and twirled. She was truly very excited for a night on the town with old friends.

"Time to go." Cass stood and straightened her skirt. She wore a short black skirt with a black tank top emblazoned with a broken heart and the word ‘heartbreaker’ across it. On her feet were a pair of hot pink stilettos.

Heads turned when Cass and Raina entered the bar. It was so obvious that it was almost laughable. Raina looked at Cass and whispered, "Why are they staring at us?"

Raina had a healthy amount of self-confidence, something she’d built up over the years. She objectively knew she was a good-looking woman, but she’d never turned this many heads before by walking into a room.

Cass burst out laughing. "They're not looking at us, they're looking at you specifically. You disappeared straight off your university campus without a single word for two years, and suddenly you show back up again looking like a supermodel." Cass looked her up and down. "A really short supermodel."

Raina grinned and rolled her eyes. "Sure, thanks. Small town curiosity then."

They made their way to the back of the room, weaving around tables and heading past the bar to where Noah was waving at them from a table in the corner. Raina was grateful he thought to come out ahead of them and grab a table, because the room was crowded and she wasn't sure they'd have gotten a table otherwise. Noah already had a drink in front of him and next to his drink were two glasses of champagne.

Raina and Cass slid into their seats and thanked Noah for the drinks. They toasted and took a sip. Raina savoured the bubbles as they touched her tongue. This would be her only drink for the night. As always, she had to be very aware of everything she put in her body, but a glass of champagne with her two best friends was a necessity.

Cass picked up the conversation where they left off. "When you were taken away and no one knew where you were, we were frantic. Noah and I practically burned the university down searching for you. Your parents drove up and helped us. They were just as bewildered and frightened as we were, but for some reason they didn't want to go to the authorities."

Cass looked at Raina questioningly and Raina shifted in her chair. She knew why Joe and Diane wouldn't want to go to the police. They probably suspected the mafia connection was the reason for Raina's disappearance. They would have known that her life could've been even more in danger had they involved the police.

Curious, Raina asked, "And did they go to the police eventually?"

Noah gave her a strange look. "No, you contacted them two days after you went missing and told them where you were before they could make the decision to report you missing." At Raina’s blank look he continued, as if trying to prompt her. "You told them you needed time to yourself to figure things out. That you wanted to travel, that you felt bad for dropping out of University, which is why you took off without a word."

Raina sat with her mouth hanging open. It was quite a story and not a bit of it was true. But that wasn't what shocked her. Of course, her parents would have had to come up with something to appease her friends when Raina didn't come back. They would never understand why her parents wouldn't report her missing. What surprised Raina was the timeline. Two days after she’d gone missing. Who had contacted them and what had they said to her parents? Joe and Diane would've been frantic. Had someone taken that into consideration and attempted to reassure her parents?

Raina knew the answer to that. Mateo. He would have wanted to reassure her family; not only to keep them from going to the police, but because he would've known it would hurt Raina to know that her parents were upset. Raina knew this as well as she knew herself. Because she knew Mateo.

Unwilling to go down that path, Raina drained the rest of her champagne, giving herself a nice buzz. She grinned broadly at her two friends. "Who wants to dance?"

17

"So, you and Cass," Raina said casually while she was dancing with Noah.

Raina was having an awesome night. She and her two best friends spent hours talking and dancing, talking and drinking, Raina mostly drinking pop and flirting with the local cowboys. Though Noah didn’t join in, he was totally fine with the girls objectifying the boys. He knew it was all in good fun.

Raina’s gunshot wound gave her the occasional bolt of pain, but it seemed to be healing quickly. As long as she didn’t dance too energetically, she felt fine. Good enough for the occasional two-step.

Cass had gone to the bathroom. Before leaving Raina and Noah on the dance floor, she said she was going to order more drinks and have them waiting at the table. Raina decided to take this opportunity to grill Noah about his intentions toward her friend. Of course, he was equally Raina’s friend, all three of them having grown up together, gone to high school together and then off to college together. They had been inseparable until the day Raina was kidnapped.

Now, dancing to the beat of Old Town Road, Raina confronted Noah about this new development in their trio.

To his credit, Noah didn't miss a beat, and he didn't pretend he didn't know what Raina was talking about. "I love her," he said simply, his gaze straying toward the table.

When he didn't immediately see Cass, he swept the bar with a hawk-like gaze until he spotted her ordering their drinks. He visibly relaxed when he set eyes on his girlfriend. She was leaning over the bar, her ass stuck out. It was clear exactly where his gaze had zeroed in on.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Raina said, rolling her eyes at him. "You've been in love with Cass since kindergarten. I think the whole town knows that's why you’ve been hanging out with a couple of girls through your entire educational career. What I'm asking is, when did she sit up and finally notice?"

Noah grinned, his pride in their relationship clear. "A few months after you disappeared. I started dating this girl, kind of a goth punk chick. She was pretty cool, into literature and art, but way too intense for me."

Raina wasn't surprised at this assessment. It's why she had never considered him romantically, not even in her fantasies. Dude was so laid-back he was practically in a coma. "Cass took it hard, me dating other girls. She got mean all of a sudden, picked apart everything about them, and about me. I couldn't figure out why she suddenly did this about-face. She was always such a sweet person, never had a bad word to say about anyone. And then all of a sudden, BAM! She wouldn't stop talking smack."

Raina giggled. Noah had a way with words. He always had; he was the clown in school.

"So she finally came around to your way of thinking. And now? Is it all rainbows and happily ever after?"

Noah shook his head. "It wasn’t that easy. We sort of stopped being friends while we were figuring ourselves out, but because you were missing, we still had to see each other. We had to organize searches and everything. It was this weird time in our lives, where we couldn't stop arguing, but we still wanted to be together."

Raina grinned and bounced an extra bounce to the beat of the music. "And then fighting turned into kissing… and kissing turned into fuck—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's pretty much exactly what happened. We’re predictable."

"No." Raina poked him in the chest. "It's a classic relationship starter. You need to read a romance novel or watch a romcom. You'll see what I mean. Boy meets girl in some kind of meet-cute, boy and girl fight, fight, fight, then they kiss, kiss, kiss, then…"

"You're finding this way too amusing," Noah said dryly.

Raina laughed out loud, throwing her head back and enjoying the carefree moment. Yeah, she was amused. This was the most fun she'd had in years. She’d gone globetrotting, she'd gone to incredible places in the world, explored new cultures, new people, new countries. But it really came down to this. The people that she knew and that knew her. Their love for each other transcended all that. Places were cool, but they couldn't care about a person's well-being. Raina loved Noah and Cass and hoped the best for them. She knew that they felt the same about her.

"So, have you proposed to her?" Raina was dying of curiosity.

The song ended and they stopped dancing, though they continued to stand on the dance floor.

"No, I haven't asked her yet," he said quietly, his eyes on the woman now sitting across the room one leg crossed over the other, a dreamy expression on her face as she waited for her companions to come back. "I have the ring though. I'm just waiting for the right moment."

A lump formed in Raina's throat and she had to swallow it before she could speak. Thinking about her relationship, or non-relationship with Mateo, she put her hand on Noah's sleeve. "Every moment is the perfect moment. If you wait too long or try too hard to capture a certain moment, you'll waste time waiting for something intangible. My advice if you want it, is don’t miss out on one minute of the joy in knowing you're going to spend the rest of your life with the person you love."

Noah nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right. Every time I try to settle on a day and time, I change my mind. Nothing seems right. People keep telling me the right moment will present itself, but it hasn't and I'm starting to think it never will."

Raina smiled at him. "It's not about the perfect moment, it's about the perfect person. If you think you found her, then don't waste a single second, create the moment."

The way Mateo kept creating moments for them. He was patient, he was relentless, he never gave up. Raina didn't know if Mateo loved her, though she suspected he might. What she did know is that she could rely on him. He would come for her. He would always come for her. He was the master of making his moments.

Noah and Raina weaved through the tables making their way back to where Cass was sitting. Before they made it to the table though, they were intercepted by a couple of cowboys.

"Well aren’t you looking fine tonight, little Miss Raina." One of them stepped up to Raina his arms outstretched.

"Darcy! I heard you might be out tonight." Raina opened her arms to him and allowed him to envelop her in a bear hug.

He stood close to her his arm slung over her shoulders, a section of her hair between his fingers where he played with it. Darcy was a good guy, but he loved to get into a woman’s space. Raina didn't mind tonight though. Some light flirtation was good for her.

"Dance?" Darcy asked her.

Raina looked at Noah and then toward Cass who was watching them with curiosity, her lips tilted up in a grin because she knew that her friend was getting hit on. Noah nodded toward Darcy and his boys and then said to Raina, "Whatever you want to do, I'll be at the table with Cass."

After Raina agreed to dance, Noah left her in Darcy's care. A fast-paced country beat dictated their first dance. They two-stepped energetically, laughing and talking about nothing. It was noisy and Raina was starting to feel out of breath from dancing half the night. She relaxed and allowed Darcy to swing her around in his strong embrace.

When they finished the dance, she attempted to go back to her table, but Darcy grabbed her hand to stop her. "Hey, don't go leaving me yet. I don't want to lose you for another two years. Dance with me again."

He didn't really ask her, but assumed he had her consent. Raina didn't want to make a fuss since she was having a good time, so she melted into his arms for the next dance, a love ballad. They swayed together to Taylor Swift's Lover.

Mateo would have a fit if he saw another man touching her. Every time they saw each other, the atmosphere was fraught with emotion and he made it clear that he didn't want her near his men unless it was purely business. He'd been that way right from the start, right from the moment he took her from her University campus to Venezuela.

"So, where'd you go for those two years?" Darcy asked, demand in his tone.

Raina didn't like the way he asked the question, as though he was entitled to an answer. It was really none of his business; they'd never been an item. He'd been too much of a playboy and Raina was two years behind him in school. Though he'd noticed her, neither had ever acted on any kind of romance. Story of Raina's life, all fun and fantasies, no action.

"Travelling." She didn't give him more. She didn't want him thinking that she owed him something.

He didn't take the hint. "Travelling where?"

Raina sighed. She would either have to potentially offend him and tell him to back off or find a way to answer his question that didn't include talking about her bullet wound, her family connections, or any other assorted information that might come up that he shouldn't know.

"I went to a lot of different places. I started in Venezuela." Though not willingly, she thought silently. "Then I flew overseas, into Amsterdam. I travelled around Europe, then London, Glasgow, Edinburgh. Then, Shanghai, Beijing, Seoul, Australia. And then I finished in Italy."

The look of supreme male confidence melted into something close to jealousy. "That's a lot of places. Did you have fun?"

Raina felt impatient at the questions. They were pointless. Did she have fun? Of course she had fun. She travelled the world, something that most people wanted to do but couldn’t find either the time or the money. She was in a position where she’d been able to do something incredible with her time. She was lucky.

But something was stopping her from sharing her experiences with Darcy. Maybe because she knew he didn't actually care about the answers.

"Yeah, it was mostly fun." Except for getting shot and causing a great big mess in Italy.

Darcy hauled her closer until Raina's breasts pressed against his chest. Though she was all good with a little light flirtation, she sensed that Darcy was in this for a one-night stand. Maybe more. She tried to ease back in his arms, but he tightened his hold and didn't let her go. She was about to demand that he stop dancing so close to her when he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"I've missed you. I gotta be honest, I came out tonight because I heard you were back in town. Knew I'd see you out and about eventually. You’re a girl that knows how to have a good time."

Raina wrinkled her nose. She didn't like the connotation behind that. Maybe he meant it innocently, but she suspected he was insulting her. Treating her like she might be easy, might give up the goods because he thought a woman who travelled the world was a woman with experience. Which was her business if she was. Of course, she never really had the opportunity to whore it up, but either way, it didn't mean he got to speak that way to her.

She was about to open her mouth and tell him so when he was forcibly torn away from her. One minute, Darcy was standing in front of her, leering and making inappropriate comments, and the next he was flying backwards so hard that he hit a table, which flew out from under him and smashed into another table.

Miraculously, no one seemed to be injured. Except for maybe Darcy, or at least his pride. He was picking his way out of broken glass and table and gradually climbing to his feet a look of dazed bewilderment on his face.

Raina looked around wondering how he'd managed to fling himself backward so hard, when she discovered the answer standing right next to her. A towering, rage-filled, or so he looked, Mateo was staring down at her like she was going to be his next victim. She took a quick step back before he could fling her into a table too, but he caught her arm and held her still.

"Got you," he said, sinister promise in his deep tone.

18

Raina didn't know how they did it, but suddenly Cass and Noah were standing in front of her, their body language protective. Cass’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes were narrowed on Mateo.

"Who the fuck are you and why the fuck are you touching my friend?" she demanded without missing a beat.

Mateo didn't even look at her. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Raina once since downing Darcy, who was still picking himself up off the floor, a dazed expression plastered on his face.

"You got here faster than I thought you would," Raina noted, her gaze on Mateo. She still didn't entirely trust him not to throw her into a table. He looked really pissed.

"I always know where you are, chica. Every step of the way. Everywhere you go. I'm never far away." His words could be taken as either comforting or as a threat. Raina didn't want to take them either way.

When Cass didn’t immediately get an answer to her question, she got right in Mateo’s face and growled, "Were you the reason she had to leave university so suddenly two years ago?"

Both Mateo's and Raina's eyes snapped to Cass. How on earth had she made that leap in logic? She was correct, but she shouldn't know.

"What exactly did my parents tell you?" Raina asked.

Cass looked guilty. "They told me some stuff."

At Raina's horrified expression, Cass quickly tried to reassure her, "After you disappeared, I wouldn’t leave them alone. I couldn't accept the explanation that you ran off to go travelling. It wasn't like you to not contact your family or friends."

Raina realized that Cass had been hurt by the idea that her best friend had abandoned her. Over the past few years, Raina had struggled with her feelings over leaving her friends and family. She felt sad, angry, guilty. But ultimately, she had also realized that she had no choice. At the time, it was the only path she could've taken.

Raina leaned over and hugged Cass. She held her and said in her ear, "I'm so sorry that I had to leave you without an explanation and sorry that my parents told you. You shouldn't have been burdened with that."

Cass shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I was threatening to go to the FBI. I told your parents that I would tell the authorities that they'd kidnapped their own daughter and that they were keeping her locked up in the barn if they didn't tell me what really happened to you. I didn't give them much choice."

Raina burst out laughing. It was just like Cass to get overinvolved. But Raina felt good knowing that her best friend had her back. Raina would've done the same for Cass, had Cass suddenly disappeared off the face of the planet.

"We’re going." Mateo grabbed Raina's arm and started pulling her away from her friends.

"Wait!" Cass leapt forward and grabbed Mateo's arm, trying to hold him in place. He glared down at her hand and then up into her face. Cass instantly let him go, as though reading her own death in his eyes. Raina didn't think that he would murder her friends, but he sure gave the impression that he could and would do it without batting an eye.

"It's okay," Raina said reaching out for her friend. When she saw Noah’s concerned expression, she reached out to squeeze his arm as well. "Really, it's fine. I need to talk to Mateo anyway. You two go ahead and have a good time, I'll see you later. Maybe tomorrow."

Raina glanced at Mateo to see if she’d told the truth. His eyes told her that she absolutely would not be seeing her two friends the next day… maybe never. She had to fight back tears. Was this it? Was he going to drag her away from her family and friends once more? And the man wondered why she didn't want anything to do with him. He was an asshole. He might be an attractive asshole, but that was no excuse for assholiness.

Raina hugged Cass and Noah goodbye. Noah’s hug was much shorter than Cass’s as Mateo dragged her from the other man's arms with a hand on her neck. He didn't say a word to her friends, just pulled her away and strode through the bar toward the exit.

It was then that Raina finally noticed his backup. Though they were Latino mobsters and should’ve been out of place in a country bar, they somehow managed to blend into their environment. Raina supposed it was part of the job. Don't get noticed until it was time to get noticed.

The cool air slapped her in the face as they stepped outside and she paused to breathe deeply, taking it into her lungs and cleansing the tension of the past few minutes. Mateo pulled her down the wooden steps of the bar, dragging her toward a black SUV with tinted windows. There were two SUVs to accommodate all of his men. She guessed she should be flattered. It took a whole contingent of highly skilled gangsters to pick up one small woman.

As they reached the SUV, Raina finally managed to tug her hand away from his. She stood with her hands on her hips and her chin jutted out. "What the hell was that?"

Mateo didn't miss a beat. He stopped, turned, grabbed her around the waist, picked her up and hauled her into the side of the SUV. He had a hand at her back to stop her from slamming too hard into the metal, but there was enough force that she got his point. He wasn't happy with her. She probably should've kept her mouth shut. Still, what the hell?

"You didn't have to beat up Darcy like that," she snapped, his anger making her even angrier.

"Don't you ever say another man's name to me again," he snarled, pointing a finger in her face.

Raina's mouth dropped open. Mateo had his moments, had shown her before that he had a temper, but this was the first time he wasn't acting the picture of reason. He was demanding that she never say a man's name to him? How did a person do that? Was she supposed to avoid interacting with men forever? She figured that was about the only way that she would never speak another man's name.

"That's ridiculous," she said, somewhat unnecessarily since everyone in the vicinity knew that it was ridiculous.

"You let him touch you. You let them both touch you. You. Are. Mine." He emphasized each of the last three words by smacking his hand into the vehicle next to her head. She blinked up at him in surprise. Her heart was hammering in her chest. A combination of fear and lust sent her adrenaline soaring. "The only man that gets to touch you is me. Remember that. Because the next man that touches you does not get the allowances that these men did. The next man who touches you dies."

Before she could respond, before she could tell him that he was being ridiculous, he yanked her up the vehicle until her feet were dangling off the ground and he swooped in for a life altering kiss.

19

Mateo broke the kiss and, in one smooth move, swung Raina away from the vehicle far enough that he could open the rear passenger door and lift her inside. Raina was so stunned by the kiss that she barely noticed as he pulled the seat belt around her and latched it, his shoulder brushing hers as he leaned across her body.

"Where are we…?" Raina started to ask, but Mateo slammed the door on her question and strode around to the other side of the vehicle.

She watched curiously as he had a conversation with two of his men before climbing in the back with her, slamming his door shut and buckling his own seatbelt. Two of his men got in the front while the rest made their way to the rear vehicle.

"Where are you taking me?" Raina tried to hide the fear in her voice.

Mateo always had a rhyme and reason for everything he did, but when she didn't know what that was, he came across as unpredictable. Raina didn't like unpredictable. And now she was completely at his mercy. She doubted he would give her another opportunity to run away.

"Home," he said shortly.

The vehicle began moving, taking a left out of the bar parking lot and onto the highway, away from the direction that would take her back to the farm.

"Not the farm, I'm guessing?”

"Not the farm," he confirmed.

"Can you please give me a little more?" she demanded, her voice rising. "Are we driving, are we taking an airplane, a train, a bus? And where exactly is this home that you're taking me to? Venezuela?"

Mateo turned to look at her, his deep chocolatey eyes gleaming in the darkness. "Not Venezuela."

Raina was bewildered. If they weren't going to Venezuela, then where were they going? For some reason Mateo was being even shorter with her than usual. Almost purposefully evasive.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you hiding something from me?"

He looked at her for a while, as though really seeing inside her head. Some of the tension released from his body and he relaxed against his seat. He sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face. He looked tired. Like really, really tired. As though he hadn't slept in weeks.

A stab of guilt pierced her. He hadn't slept because he'd been following her around Italy and then following her back to America as she ran away from him, playing a silly game. Though she had a valid reason for not wanting to go with him, she still cared about his well-being.

"You need to get some sleep," she murmured.

He shrugged. "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

She smirked. "Warren Zevon. Now tell me what you're keeping from me."

“Warren who?” Mateo gave her a strange look.

“Singer songwriter. The first person to write the lyric, ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead’.”

Mateo’s lips twitched in amusement. “And you know this because?”

Raina shrugged and tried not to return his semi-smile. She was trying to be mad at him, trying to grill him on their destination. “Because I spent two years of my childhood in hospitals and my dad distracted me with movie and music trivia.”

“And you remember everything you hear?” He seemed genuinely curious, as if charmed by learning this new facet of Raina he hadn’t known before.

“Only the random stuff,” she countered.

Raina thought maybe Mateo was avoiding the previous topic. There was something up and it was making him edgy and evasive. Mateo was always on high alert, but this was different. He seemed distracted instead of his usual hyper focused.

She was surprised when he started speaking of his own volition without having to be prompted again. "Your stepfather is giving me Miami."

Raina thought she must not have heard him right. "Sotza is giving you a city? Like a whole city? Is that even possible?"

Mateo looked over at her, his lip still curled in a half smile. "Yeah, he's giving me a city."

"Are you being sarcastic?" Raina demanded.

"No, chica, I'm not. Sotza is handing over the reins to the Miami underworld. He's done with the chaos of the past several years. He wants someone in command who can be strong and decisive, someone who will put down any competitors or challenges. He wants me to take over."

Raina didn't know how to react. On the one hand she was shocked. Could a person just hand over his city to another person? That didn't seem right. But then again, she didn't know everything there was to know about the mafia and how they worked. Maybe they did hand cities over to each other like gifts. It sounded like they also stole cities from each other too.

On the other hand, Mateo was the perfect choice to bring order to a chaotic situation. He was ruthless, brutal and brilliant. He was methodical and patient when required. He knew how to play the long game.

"But doesn't Sotza want to keep you with him?" she asked, curious how it would work. Could Mateo still be second-in-command to Sotza while living and working in Miami? She didn't think so.

Mateo confirmed her last thought with his next sentence. "I believe that Sotza would keep me with him in Venezuela if he could, but Miami is a sensitive issue. It's the gateway for most product; the chaos will weaken trade where routes are already established. Sotza understands that there must be sacrifice in this business. I’m needed in Miami."

Mateo’s quiet confidence in his ability to follow through on Sotza’s command, to bring an entire city under control, sent a zing of attraction through her. Mateo knew what he wanted and he went after it.

"He must trust you a lot," she murmured thoughtfully. She never really thought about it, but of course Sotza would trust Mateo. Mateo would've had plenty of opportunity to betray Sotzao over the years if that had been his intention. He'd probably proven his loyalty over and over again.

When Mateo didn't respond to her last comment, Raina asked, "What about me? Where do I fit in?"

"You’re with me," Mateo said with quiet finality.

"But what does that mean? Stop giving me such cryptic answers and tell me what the heck is going on."

Raina was beginning to feel frustrated. In romance novels, the heroines always adored the strong silent type. Raina was beginning to see exactly how frustrating strong and silent could be. She would much prefer if the man used his words.

He flashed her a quick smile, as though he found her annoyance cute. He would find it much less cute when she found something to bash him over the head with.

"What that means is you're with me; you will always be with me. Going forward you belong to me. If I’m in Pennsylvania, then you’re in Pennsylvania. If I am in Venezuela, then you’re in Venezuela. If I’m in Miami, then you are also in Miami." His voice was firm but with an edge.

"But… if you’re going to be the new… what? The new boss of Miami? Like Sotza is in Venezuela?" At his nod she continued. "But then, what does that make me?"

"My wife," he said, his tone brooking no argument.

His wife.

She'd known that he wanted to marry her, but she’d been treating the idea like some distant dream that she might eventually have to face but wasn’t in a hurry to reach. Something she could get out of or that she might have a choice in. But now, in the back of this vehicle, heading towards a future in Miami with this man, she realized that her destiny was about to be written for her.

"So you're going to be the new boss of Miami and I am going to be your wife." It was as though saying the words out loud helped to solidify the concept.

She wasn't exactly sure what she was looking for from Mateo. She supposed she wanted some kind of acknowledgement that this was a big deal. That marrying the boss of Miami was as terrifying a thing as she thought it was.

"You are as good as my wife already. We’ll get the paper and have the ceremony, but you’ll stand with me as I take over the city." He said it with quiet authority.

"I’m scared." Her heart was starting to hammer with anxiety.

She was a long way from that young and eager University freshman who’d worried about nothing more than an overdue English paper. She never aspired to be the wife of a mob boss, never imagined it was a thing, except maybe on TV and in movies.

He looked at her, his expression filled with something she couldn't quite pin down. Pity? Satisfaction? The two emotions were opposite, yet that’s what she read on his face. As though everything were falling into place for him and he couldn't be happier, but he knew the sacrifices Raina would have to make to stand by his side.

He picked her hand up and kissed the knuckles, sending her heart soaring. "Nothing will touch you so long as I’m alive."

20

Raina wanted to ask about her parents, demand that Mateo take her back to say goodbye to them. But she knew he would refuse and since Mateo had been in touch with her parents for the past two years, she suspected he would update them on this new development. If not, then she would call them when she landed in Miami. She was relatively certain that Cass would call them and let them know what happened at the bar.

The vehicle started to slow and Raina looked around in confusion. It was close to midnight so she couldn't see anything out of the tinted windows, but it seemed as though they were going to stop on the highway.

And then they did stop on the highway. "Why are we stopping here?"

Mateo didn't answer. As soon as the SUV stopped, he opened the door and got out, walking around to her side. He opened the door and helped her out, though she was tempted to smack his hand when he unbuckled her seatbelt. Enough was enough, she was a grown woman. She slid out of the vehicle, but Mateo didn't back up so she was forced to stand flush against him. He slid his arm around her waist resting his broad hand on her hip. They stood that way for a few seconds then he escorted her to the front of the vehicle.

"Get the plane ready," he told one of his men.

Now Raina was really confused. Plane? But they weren't anywhere near the airport. Their small town supported a tiny airfield that could barely land a Cessna. And that was all the way on the other side of the town. There was no airport around here.

Raina was about to tell Mateo that he was somehow mistaken when she caught sight of an airplane rolling toward them up the highway. It was being driven off a side road that led into a farmer's field. Apparently, they had ditched the aircraft to come and collect her. Mateo never failed to surprise her.

"I was expecting something bigger," she said sarcastically.

She hadn't been expecting anything at all, let alone an airplane out in the middle of nowhere on the highway from which they clearly intended to take off.

"The luxury jet’s in the shop." Mateo's voice was so deadpan that for a second Raina believed him, but then she caught sight of his smirk.

Playing along, Raina said tartly, "Well, this will have to do for now, but in the future, I fully expect the luxury jet to be ready and waiting for me."

As the plane stopped Mateo guided her toward it. "Your wish is my command, princess."

Raina noticed Mateo did that a lot, called her all sorts of endearments. Princess, chica, baby. Was he going to pick one, or continue to rotate them? She wasn't sure how she felt about all the endearments. Sometimes happy, sometimes not. She wondered if he called other women by these endearments. No, that seemed unlikely. She couldn’t picture the super serious Mateo casually calling a woman princess. Not unless he meant it.

He helped her onto the airplane and this time when he reached over to buckle her seatbelt, she smacked his hand. "You do know that I've been buckling my own seatbelts for the last twenty years?"

"Your safety will always be my priority. If I do it for you, then I know it's done right."

He sounded so serious the smile fell from her lips as she stared at him sitting next to her.

"I will never stop wanting to protect you. This is something that you’ll indulge me in without complaint. I’ll accept a lot from you, but not this. If I tell you that something is for your safety, then you will listen, without argument, without hesitation."

Raina was generally an argumentative person. She questioned everything. The government, the police, the media, laws, lawyers, parents, both adoptive and birth, doctors; the list could go on forever. In her opinion, questioning was a sign of intelligence. Blind following was a sign of complacency or fear.

But when Mateo laid down this law, she was more inclined to listen. There was something about him. The tone of his voice, his expression, his earnestness. This was one area that she knew he wouldn't fuck around with.

"You’ve probably noticed by now, but I’m not very good at following orders." When it looked like Mateo was about to further lay down the law, she shook her head and interrupted, "This is the one time that I'll try harder. I believe you. I believe that you have my best interests at heart. So I'll try to listen if it's something that has to do with my safety."

Mateo studied her for second. "Don't try. Just do. If you can’t then I’ll make sure it gets done."

Raina tried to hold onto her temper. She didn't appreciate it when she extended an olive branch toward her "future husband" and he rejected it.

"You know, for someone who professes that he desperately wants to marry me, you don't seem to give two shits about what I think. Or how I feel," she snapped furiously. The plane began to taxi down the highway. "You just tell me where to go and what to do. I don't appreciate being talked to like I'm five years old and don't know how to listen. When I tell you that I’ll try to listen to you about things that concern my safety, I mean it."

"So far you haven't once gone where I wanted you to go or did what I wanted you to do," he said dryly.

"Exactly. And I never will if you keep talking to me this way. Give me a reason to listen to you and I might actually do it."

"I doubt that," he drawled, his gaze outside the window on the ground as the plane lifted off.

His hand tightened on his arm rest. It was so subtle that she might've missed it. Was he afraid of flying? She couldn't exactly ask him because two of his men were in the small airplane with them, one flying and the other… she guessed he was bodyguard.

"My point is, if you expect me to play house with you, then I'll need you to stop being the tough guy all the time. Always telling me what to do and scolding me about every little thing. Happy marriages don't work that way." She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and tried hard to not say anything else. She thought she'd ended on a poignant note. But then she couldn't help herself. "And another thing," she turned to glare at him. "What was that at the bar? You can't go around beating up anyone and everyone that touches me."

He didn't turn and look at her; his gaze was still firmly on the rapidly disappearing ground. "Yes, I can."

Well, he had a point. He probably literally could beat up any man that touched her. "Okay, maybe you can, but that doesn't mean you should."

"Yes, it does." Still he wouldn’t look at her.

She didn't know if she should be amused or annoyed at this point. He was definitely the most stubborn man she'd ever met. There was no give in him. He claimed to want her, claimed to want to keep her safe and happy, but she didn't know yet if she could trust him to give her the tools she needed for that happiness.

As she was staring at him, he finally turned to look at her. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. It was big and warm and wrapped over her delicate bones. She didn't know why he did it. Was he trying to comfort her? She wasn't really in distress, she felt perfectly safe with him, if a little annoyed. No, it felt more like a claiming. Possession. He was telling her who she belonged to.

"What are you thinking when you look at me like that?" he asked her.

She was surprised that he asked her something like that in front of his men. Mafia guys had an image to project, but Mateo didn't seem to care what his people thought of him. At least not about anything connected to Raina. He said and did what he wanted where she was concerned.

She thought about giving him a flippant answer, but the moment didn't feel flip. She chewed on her lip for a second and then told him the truth. "I was thinking… that you'll do anything for me.” Though her voice was quiet, only just above the noise of the airplane, it rang with conviction.

He nodded slowly, looking at her, studying her fierce features. "I would do anything for you," he agreed, tipping her chin with his fingers. "Even the things that you don’t want me to do. You belong to me, it's my job to see to your safety and comfort."

"At the expense of everything else?" she replied with a frown. "Conflict is a part of life. You can't disappear all those things for me. Life doesn't work that way."

He leaned over capturing her face and pulling it towards him. They met in the middle, him pressing his lips against hers with a stinging kiss. He leaned back, his face inches from hers. "Watch me."

21

Raina was completely wiped out by the time they were entering the airspace outside of Miami. Her eyes were closing involuntarily and she was constantly smothering yawns. It had to be after 3 AM.

Mateo kept his hand on her for almost the whole flight, switching it from her shoulder to her arm and then her knee. At first his need to be constantly touching her was disconcerting, but she quickly got used to it. And now, as exhausted as she was, her mind barely able to process any thought, the hand on her knee was comforting. As if sensing her need for touch, he squeezed her.

Raina must've fallen asleep in the few minutes it took them to descend through the clouds and land on the small aircraft runway next to the Miami airport. The door was opened, and a rush of cool air slapped her in the face. She breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of ocean into her lungs. She loved that smell. Growing up on a farm she'd become used to dirt, cows, horses, man sweat, and various other scents. The smell of Pennsylvania was the smell of home. But the scent of the ocean? This was where her heart longed to be. When she travelled, she tried to always pick places near an ocean.

Mateo disembarked the airplane first and reached for her, wrapping his fingers around her waist and lowering her to the ground. His men were doing an airplane check before leaving. She stood waiting for them until Mateo tugged on her arm and nodded his head toward a waiting SUV, black with tinted windows, like the one’s he’d picked her up in. What were these? Thug vans? She snickered at her own joke and then yawned widely.

Mateo led her over to the SUV, where Thomas, Angela and another man were waiting. The man she didn’t recognize was taller than Raina, but shorter than Mateo. He was built like a boxer; stocky, big muscles, thick neck, closely shaved hair, and a fuck-off attitude that she could sense for miles. She liked him immediately.

Raina sensed that the man was something more than a regular thug. He wore his suit like he was born in it and his expression was pure professional. Raina stuck her hand out and said, "Raina Duncan."

His lips split into a grin that was so big and shiny that Raina was taken aback. She'd pegged him as a serious mafioso guy, but he was looking at her like she was his lost pet puppy come home. Weird, she'd never met the guy.

He grabbed hold of her hand and pumped with vigor for far too long considering they just met. He covered the back of her hand with his other hand and said enthusiastically, "Danny Russo. I've been wanting to meet you for years. You're the spitting image of your mama."

"You know Vee?" Raina asked, shaking off some of her exhaustion. She'd been dying to know more about the place where her mom grew up. Maybe this guy could give her the scoop.

Mateo took her arm and tugged her hand out of Danny's, giving the other guy a hard stare. "Danny was Vee's second-in-command."

Raina grinned. This was perfect. She could get all the dirt on her famous underworld mobster mama. "And do you work for Mateo now?" she asked Danny.

Danny nodded. "More like work with. When your mom found out that he was heading to Miami to take over, she got in touch. Figures I can show him the ins and outs of the city."

"Enough talking," Mateo growled, tugging Raina away from Danny. "She's exhausted, needs a bed." He put his hand against the small of her back, careful to avoid her injury, and pushed her toward the open back door of the SUV. "Get inside. I'll be right back."

Raina climbed into the vehicle, hesitated, then slammed the door shut behind her. Though it wasn't exactly a cold night, she still felt chilled. Probably because she was so tired.

Danny slid into the driver's seat of the SUV and twisted around to look at her again, shaking his head. "Spitting image. It's amazing. You could be twins."

Raina blushed. Her birth mother was drop-dead gorgeous. Raina was okay with believing she looked like the other woman, though she didn't feel that gorgeous right now. Her glasses were drooping down her nose, her formerly flat hair was beginning to frizz in the humidity and her clothes felt like they fit too tightly. She longed to be in a set of loose pajamas and sleeping soundly between the cool sheets of a bed.

She leaned her head back against the seat and started to fall asleep, only waking up for a few seconds when Mateo climbed into the vehicle. He took one look at her and moved into the center seat, buckling her in, and then himself. He reached an arm around her neck and tugged her against his side until her head was pressed to his chest over his heart. At first, she lay stiff in his arms, but gradually the heat of his body seeped into her hers, encouraging her to melt against him, the steady beat of his heart pattering a soothing rhythm in her ear.

The next time she woke she was being lifted from the vehicle and hoisted up against Mateo's chest. She snuggled into him. She loved the way it felt being in his arms, being held by him, being protected by him. She might be confused about her emotions when it came to her mobster boyfriend, but her body knew it wanted Mateo one hundred percent of the time.

Mateo had a murmured conversation over her head with Danny. It was brief. She didn't really pay attention to the sentences but caught enough words to get the gist. Mateo wanted Danny to come by in the morning to help him outline some kind of plans. Maybe plans on how to take over the city? She didn't know, and at the moment, she didn't care. She was about two seconds away from falling asleep on Mateo and possibly drooling all over his nice shirt.

He strode into the house, his shoes tapping against the marble floor. Raina wanted to care about the house they were in; the house that was going to be her home. She got the impression it was big, beautiful, spacious, and utterly opulent. She'd have to check it out tomorrow. For now, she hoped there was a bed as luxurious as the rest of the house.

Mateo took the stairs to the second floor two at a time. Then it was more marble floor, followed by door after door. How many rooms did this place have?

Finally, Mateo stopped in front of a set of double doors at the end of the hall and pushed them open. He hoisted her up against his body to shove the door wider and strode inside. He deposited her on a bed, which was thankfully big and plush with lots of blankets and pillows.

Perfect.

Raina curled into a ball on her side and prepared to fall asleep, but before she could do that, Mateo pulled her up into a sitting position. She tried to slump back over, but he grabbed her and forced her back up.

"Whyyyyy?" she whined groggily.

Instead of answering, he turned her until she was facing away from him and lifted the back of her shirt. It wasn't until his fingers touched the bandage that was taped to her back that she realized he was checking her wound. He gently pried the tape from her skin, hesitating slightly when she cried out in pain. Once the whole thing was off, he tossed it onto the nightstand and ran his hand over the wound. It didn't hurt, it felt more like heat against her skin as his knuckles brushed the affected area.

"The skin looks healthy," he murmured from behind her. "The stitches’ll need to come out soon. I'll have to find a doctor for you tomorrow."

"You would know, snitches need stiches, right?” she giggled at her own joke and then yawned. “Are you done?"

"Almost." He slid to his knees in front of her and she blinked at him, wondering what he was doing. Was he proposing marriage to her? Seemed a little strange considering he as much as told her he was marrying her, with or without her permission.

Then she realized what he was doing when he reached for her shoes and pulled them off one at a time, digging his thumbs into the arch of each foot and massaging gently. She moaned and flopped back on the bed, a rush of happy tingles running through her body and swirling in her stomach. Okay, this was heaven. A beautiful luxurious bed and a man at her feet giving her the best foot massage of her life. Okay, the only foot massage of her life, but whatever, a kidnap victim had to take what she could get.

When he finished, he stood, towering over her. She thought now he would leave, but he didn't. He reached down, took her hands and tugged her to her feet. She made a complaining sound which turned into a yelp when he reached for her jeans and undid the button. She tried to slap his hand away, but he pushed them aside and finished unzipping her jeans.

"What are you doing?" she asked, covering her lower belly with her hands.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said calmly. “I want you to be comfortable. And you won't be comfortable in these clothes."

"I can take them off myself," she said, her voice high. She didn't want him to see her naked. She wasn't ready for that.

He hesitated and gave her a long look, then nodded his head. "It's probably for the best if you do. I finally have my woman in my home base, I'm not sure how well my control will hold."

She didn't know how to respond to that. She wrapped her arms around her chest and said, "Good night, Mateo."

Mateo took her hands, unfolding her arms and leaning in, pressing his lips hard against hers. His breath was a whisper across her skin as he said, "Good night, Raina."

22

Raina slept like the dead and woke up feeling disoriented. She yawned and stretched underneath the heavy blanket, squinting her eyes toward the window. It was a bright and sunny morning. She slapped her hand around her night table until she found her glasses. Shoving them on, she looked groggily at the alarm clock. 11:30 AM; almost lunchtime.

Raina sat up, shoving hair out of her face. She looked around and then realized she didn't know where anything was. Had her purse been captured with her? Where was her phone? She was going to be pissed at Mateo if he lost her phone. It was less about the phone itself, though she had some valuable contacts in there. No, she wanted her phone case.

She had found the coolest iPhone place at a Disney store in Paris. It had a picture of Betty Boop on the front riding a motorcycle and Raina's name emblazoned across the bottom. It was silly, but for some reason, that cell phone case was a symbol of her independence. It was the first thing that she bought for herself when she'd been on the run. First time she stopped long enough to shop for something.

Raina climbed out of bed and stretched. She was wearing only her panties. A quick look around the room told her that there were no clothes there for her. She was forced to pull on the clothing that she'd worn the night before. Bar-star was not a good daytime look.

She found a packaged toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom, which she used. Feeling better, she made her way down the stairs, looking around. The house was insane. The furnishings were big, beautiful, opulent. Not really her style and a little tacky if she was being honest, but the place itself was incredibly luxurious.

There were so many rooms that she lost count as she went by them. She didn't stop to look inside any of them yet; she figured she could do that later, after breakfast.

Raina descended to the first floor of the mansion and found herself in the lobby by the front door. She glanced around and found an archway off to the side. She went through and, after a few minute’s exploration, she found the dining room, which sported a ridiculously long table and at least a dozen chairs. Mateo was sitting at the head of the table, engrossed in a conversation with someone on his cell phone, a piece of toast held aloft in his hand.

He was wearing a suit instead of his usual jeans and T-shirt. He looked mouth-wateringly good. Even the scowl wrinkling his brows was sexy.

He caught sight of her and his serious expression shifted. He didn't smile, but there was a softening to his features as he watched her.

He waved at the chair on his right, indicating that she should sit down. Raina narrowed her eyes at him and headed around to the other side of the table, sitting in the chair on his immediate left. She may as well establish immediately that she was no dog to be ordered around.

Mateo continued to listen to whoever was talking on the other end of the phone, but Raina could tell he was also paying close attention to her. He reached down and pulled something from his pocket, setting it on her placemat. Raina immediately recognized the little blue bottle. Her pills. So he did have her purse somewhere.

Raina started piling food on her plate. In front of her was a spread of every kind of delicious breakfast food imaginable. There was a plate filled with toast, one with waffles, another with scrambled eggs, and yet another with bacon and sausage. There was also a big bowl filled with a variety of fruit. Raina was going to ignore that particular dish until she made her way through all the fatty stuff.

She didn't often allow herself to indulge this way, but she also didn't often have that many options spread out in front of her hungry gaze.

As she reached for another fistful of bacon Mateo grabbed her wrist. Without missing a beat in his conversation, he pushed her hand toward the fruit plate. Once again, she narrowed her eyes at him, laser beaming him with her displeasure. She pulled her hand away from his and once again reached for the bacon this time snatching it fast and shoving it into her mouth before he could stop her.

"Excuse me, I'm going to have to call you back. Give me half an hour." Mateo ended the call and set his phone on the table, then turned his gaze to Raina's face.

Raina grinned at him as she chewed her bacon. She was being childish, but she couldn't help it. She wasn’t about to let some man tell her what to eat.

"I thought we established that your health is very important to me," Mateo said in a growly voice that did strange things to the pit of her stomach. "Stop eating the bacon and move on to the fruit. It's better for you and will promote better kidney health."

"If you don't want me to eat bacon then don't give me the option," she said tartly, picking up the cloth napkin next to her plate and wiping her fingers of bacon grease.

She actually did kind of want some of the strawberries and blackberries that she saw in the fruit bowl, but now it was a matter of principle; she couldn't touch that fruit.

Mateo reached out, swiped the fruit bowl and dumped half of it on her plate covering her toast and eggs in fruit.

"Hey!"

Mateo grabbed her hand before she could start throwing berries back into the bowl. "You need to have a better attitude when it comes to both me and your health. If you want our marriage to be a pleasant one, then you’ll follow a few basic rules."

"Well that's an easy problem to solve," she said sarcastically. "We're not married yet, so I think I'll do as I please."

"Do not declare war with me, little girl. I’ve won every battle, skirmish, and war that I have partaken in. If you choose that path, you will not win."

Raina rather thought that his feelings for her gave her an edge in any war they might be about to embark on, but she didn't want to show her hand by telling him that. Instead, she pushed her plate away from her and crossed her arms over her chest. "I’m well aware of my needs. I’ve been living with the consequences of kidney failure since the age of nine. I rarely indulge in things that I know are bad for my body. I don't need a keeper to tell me to stay away from bacon."

"Apparently you do.”

Raina could feel her temper soaring and had to take several deep breaths to stop herself from shouting at him. She was getting absolutely nowhere and now wasn't the time to throw a fit. The way things were going, she thought that there would be plenty of time for that in the future. She decided to change the subject instead.

"Who does this house belong to?" she asked. "I mean, besides you. It's obviously been here for a while and the furnishings don't exactly seem like your taste. Too gaudy.”

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and dropped it next to his empty plate. "The mansion used to belong to the former Miami boss, Ignacio Hernandez. He was killed about four years ago. The mansion was then entrusted to Reyes through marriage."

Raina stared blankly at him, the gears of her mind working hard as she tried to piece together what she knew of the Miami underground scene. She only got bits and pieces from Mateo, Sotza, Vee and some of the men. Then it hit her, this was the mansion that Casey Reyes used to live in.

Mateo answered her unspoken question. "Señora Reyes lived here with her former husband prior to his death."

Though Raina had never met Casey Reyes, nor her formidable husband, she’d heard enough about the woman to feel a closeness to her.

Now, Raina was inhabiting her old home, the place where Casey’s first husband had died in a brutal takeover. Raina wondered how Casey felt about the house now. If she would come visit some time or if she preferred the structure be burnt to the ground.

After breakfast, Raina went back to her bedroom and gathered a pen and a pad of paper. With new determination she wandered the halls, counting bedrooms, cataloguing furnishings and artwork and taking note of outdated styles. She wrote down several pages of notes.

She didn’t know exactly why she was doing it. She never cared about interior decorating in the past. Maybe it was because she was bored, or maybe because her life had spun out of control and making what changes she could helped her feel like she was back in control. Whatever it was, she thoroughly enjoyed the work. It gave her a feeling of purpose.

She’d been exploring the second floor for nearly an hour and was on her seventh bedroom when she wandered into the room that Mateo had claimed. She knew right away, without anyone telling her. It smelled like him; like man, sunshine and ocean.

She backed up and nearly left, but then curiosity and a sense of purpose drove her inside. She was here for a reason. She needed to take inventory before she could start work on her redecorating plan. As far as she knew she hadn’t been banned from any part of the house.

Raina wandered around the heavily masculine room, touching a large armoire, a desk, chair, bed. The bed would have dominated the room, since it was a California king plus, but the room itself was pretty damn big. The more she looked at it, the more she realized it must be the master bedroom. It was bigger than all the other rooms, including hers, and the furnishings looked slightly more used.

She wandered to the window and pulled the heavy wine-coloured curtains aside. They looked expensive, but oppressive. She made a note to get rid of them.

She sank down onto the bed, testing the mattress when the door opened and Mateo strode inside. He was distracted, a leather portfolio in one hand, his eyes distant. Then his gaze landed on her and a flash of surprise crossed his features before it was replaced with a cross between pleased and predator.

“Didn’t think I’d see you in my bedroom this quickly,” he drawled, walking slowly toward her.

She shrugged. “I was bored.”

“And you found your way in here? I’m flattered.” He raised a thick dark eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes at him. “No, gangster. I wanted to take inventory of the mansion’s furnishings so I can start redecorating.”

“Redecorating?” He sounded surprised.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “If I’m going to be forced to live here, then I want a say in what it looks like.”

“No one’s forcing you,” he pointed out.

“Oh really?” She stepped closer to him, hands on her hips. “What do you call the choices you gave me? Can I leave? Continue on my path of self-discovery and independence?”

“Of course not. You can stay here or go home to Venezuela… for a while.”

“That’s not a choice!” Her voice was sharp with annoyance. “If I live on the side of a mountain in Venezuela I’m as trapped as if I was in prison.”

He shrugged his indifference. “You exaggerate. You’re being given a choice, you don’t like it, therefore you choose Miami. You choose me.”

She suspected he was toying with her since she was positive that he wouldn’t allow her to leave, even if she chose Venezuela.

“Narrowing my choices down to one isn’t a choice, Mateo. You need to go back to school.”

“Never went to school,” he said, crossing to set his leather portfolio on his desk.

She gaped at him. “How did you never go to school?”

“My family was too poor. I had to help bring in money so we could survive.”

“But….” She was floored by this information. In a few succinct sentences she learned more about Mateo than she had in the two years prior. “You’re so well spoken. You can read and write. You’re smart!”

He gave her a dark stare. “Don’t need school to be smart. I taught myself how to read and write; Sotza had a tutor available to any of his people that wanted more education. When I wasn’t too busy, I’d avail myself of the tutor’s services. I also enjoy reading and do it as often as I can. Usually every night before bed.”

Raina was seeing Mateo in a whole different light and she didn’t know what to think. His determination to seek education after having been denied it as a child was an admirable trait.

“What do you like to read?” she asked tentatively.

He leaned his ass against the desk, studying her. Was she asking him too many personal questions? She had always been inquisitive, without a lot of personal boundaries. She wanted to know what made people tick. She was a student of human nature. And the more she knew about a person the easier it was to get what she wanted out of them. The easier it was to create masterpiece forgeries.

Finally, he answered her question. “I read the news, world events, human interest stories, that sort of things. I also enjoy novels.” He walked straight toward her, so quickly that she took a step back bumping into the bed. He stopped next to her and bent to open the nightstand next to the bed. He pulled out several books and handed them to her. She glanced at the titles. Thrillers, mysteries, and a romance. She raised an eyebrow and held the last one up.

He shrugged carelessly. “It’s like porn for the brain.”

She gaped at him and then burst out laughing. He grinned and took back all the books except for the last one, the romance. “Take it, read it. I think you’ll like it.”

Her smile slowly faded as she stared up at him, her fingers tightening on the book, her heart pounding in response. The idea of reading the same words as him, of reading the same sex scenes he’d read, picturing them in his mind while they played out in hers. It was hot.

He reached out, touched her cheek, then pushed her hair back off her forehead. She became painfully aware of what she must look like. Her big glasses firmly in place, no makeup, the same rumpled clothes she’d worn the day before. He didn’t seem to care. He looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman on the planet.

“Thank you,” she whispered, in response to his giving her the book.

He winked at her. “Don’t dog ear the pages, fucking hate when people do that.”

She burst out laughing as she imagined this big thug who was capable of murdering people being annoyed at the bent pages in his romance novel. He was such a strange contradiction. Painfully domineering and egotistical, but he also had a wicked sense of humour. Five minutes in his company and she was running a gamut of emotions, from laughter, to anger, to fear. This thought sobered her. She didn’t know the real Mateo. Not really. And she didn’t know how to get to the heart of the man she was supposed to marry.

“I think I’ll go back to my room.”

He nodded, his eyes following her, his expression unreadable, as she slipped past him and headed for the door.

“Raina.”

She turned to look at him.

“I’ll have some clothes sent to your room until you’re able to do your own shopping.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, clutching the book to her chest.

He continued to stare at her as though mapping out her every feature.

“I will see you at dinner, mi amor.”

23

Raina called her mother the next day, to get Casey Reyes’ number. She was eager to get started on the renovations but didn’t want to move forward until she had Casey’s blessing.

Vee was concerned that Raina was in Miami with Mateo and took up most of their phone conversation talking about it. She grilled Raina on everything from the moment she was shot in Italy until she arrived in Miami.

In response to Vee’s question about Raina’s wound, Raina assured her, “I’m feeling better now, but getting shot hurts like a motherfucker.”

Vee chuckled her agreement. “Yes, it does.”

Vee had been shot in the arm during Nico Garza’s takeover attempt on the Venezuela mafia. Though the attempt had been unsuccessful, two men had died and Vee and another woman, Garza’s second-in-command and lover, had been hurt.

“How is Miami?” Vee asked tentatively.

“It’s good. I haven’t been here long and so far I’m on house arrest. Maybe Mateo anticipates trouble as he locks down Miami.”

Vee paused before answering, “So, you know about that.”

“That Mateo is being handed Miami on a silver platter, with a ready-order bride in the wings?” Raina tried and failed to keep the bitterness from her voice.

Vee’s reply was swift. “You wish to be removed from the situation?”

“Is that an option?” Raina asked hopefully.

Her mother sighed deeply. “To be honest, not really. Sotza has given his blessing to a merger between you two, and though my wishes do hold some weight, he’ll have the final say.”

“Do my wishes mean nothing to him?” Raina asked sharply, her eyes narrowing.

Life was so much simpler with Diane and Joe, her adoptive parents. They only wanted her to be happy. Things in this organized crime world were so complicated, she felt like a piece on a chessboard.

“Of course your wishes matter to Isaac,” Vee defended her husband. “Neither of us would allow you to be sacrificed if we thought you would be unhappy.”

“You think I’ll be happy with him?” Raina asked incredulously.

“Yes, I do,” Elvira countered, her voice sharp and pointed. “I’ve seen you two together; there’s definitely something there. Even though I’m not happy about your involvement in Miami’s mob scene I can’t object to the way Mateo feels about you.”

“We’ll end up killing each other,” Raina protested. “We’re both so stubborn.”

Vee chuckled. “Mateo wants to do a lot of things with you, my dear, but he most certainly doesn’t want to kill you.”

“It was a figure of speech,” Raina muttered.

“Do you think you can give him a chance?”

Raina thought about it, but every time her brain tried to settle on the idea of marrying Mateo, of sharing intimacy with him, she shied away from the thought. “What’s the alternative?”

“You move to Venezuela and live on the compound with us, where your options in men are seriously limited. You’ve become more of a target now than you ever were before, which means you now require a lifetime of protection.” Raina opened her mouth to defend her choices, but Vee interrupted her, “It doesn’t matter, Raina. The fact is, you’re mafia royalty whether you like it or not. Whether you’re living on a farm in the middle of nowhere with Diane and Joe or if you’re jet-setting across the world, forging documents and partying with K-pop bands in South Korea.”

Raina’s eyes widened in horror. “You heard about that?”

“So did Sotza and so did Mateo. If you hadn’t decided to leave South Korea on your own, I guarantee Mateo would’ve come after you. He wasn’t happy with some of the things you got up to. There are pictures, Raina.”

Raina giggled and buried her face in a pillow as she imagined what those pictures contained. “I wanted to have some fun.”

“I know, sweetie,” Vee said comfortingly. “And so you should have as much fun as you want. You’ve had far too many things go wrong in your short life. To be honest, I was happy to hear about your exploits when the reports filtered in to Sotza. I had to talk him down a few times, beg him to not go after you himself, but I think he also understood your need to explore the world and establish some semblance of independence.”

Raina was happy that her parents understood, but she was even more conflicted about her future. She was only twenty-one, not ready to settle down. Yet, that’s essentially what they were all asking of her. She felt like a child again, in desperate need of a hug and advice from her mom. Both of them.

After she got off the phone with Vee, Raina immediately dialed the number for Casey Reyes. She had a long and satisfying phone conversation with the mafia queen of Bolivia. Casey had at first been understandably leery about Raina staying in the mansion, and in Miami, for that matter.

Casey was also mob royalty, having grown up the daughter of a man high up in the organization. After a terrible incident, where her entire family had been killed in a mob hit, she’d been married off to the man who had killed her family and forced to live in the home that Raina now inhabited.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Casey asked, concerned for her best friend’s only child. “Miami is a vicious place to live when you’re involved in the underworld scene.”

“I don’t have much choice,” Raina told her. “My… fiancé is taking over and he wants me here with him.” Raina hesitated in calling Mateo her fiancé when he hadn’t actually proposed to her and she hadn’t actually agreed to marry him, but she didn’t know what else to call him. Boyfriend seemed like a weak word for what Mateo wanted.

“Well, I suppose I can understand that. Love has a way of making us do stupid things.”

Raina didn’t correct Casey about the love thing. She sure as shit wasn’t in love with Mateo, but she didn’t want to argue the matter, or make Casey even more concerned about her well-being. Instead, they discussed the people Raina needed to see and places she needed to visit in order to make connections in the East Coast hub city. Raina was impressed with the plethora of information Casey gave her.

When Raina hesitantly brought up the house and her redecoration plans, Casey was enthusiastically on board, much to Raina’s relief. If Casey had objected, then Raina wouldn’t have touched the mansion.

“Please tell me you’ll bulldoze the office. I fucking hated that place,” Casey said, a dark tone lacing her voice.

Raina didn’t know what happened to Casey in the office, but she was more than ready to agree. “I haven’t been in there yet, but I promise to gut the place when I get my hands on it.”

“Oh good!” Casey said happily, and Raina could hear her clap her hands. “Tell me everything you plan on doing. I always wanted to get my hands on the place, but Ignacio, my late husband, may he never rest in peace, wouldn’t let me touch anything.”

They swapped decorating notes and tips and Raina promised to start a Pinterest board so she could update Casey on all her ideas and Casey could remotely take part in the renovation.

By the time they hung up Raina was smiling and feeling more relaxed than she had in days. Maybe weeks, or even months. Though she didn’t want to live pinned under the heavy thumb of her family, she felt safer and more secure than she had in a while.

24

The following day Raina felt energetic and ready to get shit done in her new home. She researched designers in Miami and found one who came highly recommended, Daniela Velazquez. When Raina called, the woman was upbeat and intrigued by the project, asking a ton of questions, some that Raina had answers to and some she didn’t.

They agreed to meet in person the next day, which left Raina to explore on her own for one more day.

Raina was eager to do the one thing she’d been dying to do since her phone conversation with Casey; explore the underground bunker. Casey had told her of her traumatic time in the bunker and though Raina was saddened for the other woman, she was also wildly curious. What was it like down there? Would there still be a body?

Casey’s bodyguard had been killed in the bunker and as far as Casey knew, he was still down there. After the mob war, the mansion had been largely abandoned except for a cursory clean-up, which explained some of the outdated furnishings.

Raina wore a pair of sweatpants and a heavy sweatshirt. It was a bit much for the warm Florida day, but she was going underground. She wanted her skin protected from dust and sharp edges. She made her way down to the pool area, stopping to take inventory of the pool deck. She loved the pool itself and would enjoy it even more once she updated the furniture.

She made her way into the pool house, looking around in awe. Though she’d had a taste of how the wealthy lived when she was in Venezuela, she’d grown up on a farm where luxury meant there was enough hot water for everyone to shower. These past two years, when she’d gone on the run, exploring the world, she’d decided to live on less rather than more, though she had a healthy bank account balance thanks to her lucrative forging contracts. She hadn’t wanted to draw attention to herself by throwing money around like it was water.

She touched a shelf piled high with fluffy grey towels, but when her fingers came away covered in dust, she realized the towels were supposed to be white. They hadn’t been cleaned in years. She’d have to ask the housekeeper to assess the pool viability situation. It was becoming clear through her explorations that many things on the estate were suffering disrepair.

When she arrived where Casey had described the location for the entrance of the bunker, it took Raina a few minutes to find it. She had to shove one of the shelves out of the way and pull up a trap door. Her side twinged its unhappiness at the weight of the door, but she ignored it.

Raina peered through the darkness of the hole, trying to see into the bunker below, but it was pitch black. She couldn't even see the bottom. She chewed on her lip for a moment, thinking, deliberating on what to do. The smart thing would be to leave, tell Mateo about the secret bunker and beg him to let her come back here with the ladder.

Of course, Raina wasn't going to do that. There was almost no chance Mateo would let her go down into that hole until his men had secured it completely. But she wanted to be the one to explore it, to discover this facet of her new home. Casey had practically dared her by telling Raina about it.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, tapped the flashlight app and shone if into the dark hole. She was relieved when it illuminated the bottom of the bunker, though she wasn’t certain how far away it was.

After another moment of deliberation, she decided to go ahead with her original plan. She couldn't see a ladder or stairs to get down into the bunker and realized she would have to let herself drop. Before she could overthink it, she took hold of the ledge, turned around and slowly lowered herself into the hole.

Raina groaned as her stomach teetered on the edge with her legs in and her torso still on the outside. The pain from her gunshot wound flared and she grunted, pushing herself further back and allowing gravity to pull her body down.

She gripped the rough edge digging her fingers into the dirty concrete as she dangled above the floor that was somewhere below her at an unknown distance. She was going to have to let go. Because there was no chance of her being able to pull herself back up. Even if she wasn't injured, she still didn't have the upper body strength for it.

"This was a bad idea," she muttered to herself as she let go of the ledge and dropped into the dark hole with a yelp of fear.

It was somewhat anti-climactic as the ground wasn't really that far down. She hit the floor, her legs buckled and she fell over, banging her elbow on a wall.

"Ouch." She sat up and rubbed the offended area. She glared up at the hole above her, it was maybe six or seven feet high.

Raina fished her phone back out and held it up. The room flooded with light and she realized she was in a corridor. She got to her feet and dusted off her pants then moved cautiously through the tunnel. The floor was on a slant and getting steeper the further underground she went.

"This is the part where the serial killer, angry clown, Predator, alien stalks me into a dead end and murders me," she said, hoping that by saying it out loud she would be making the idea ironic thus negating the possibility of it actually happening.

Raina decided that she thought she was a lot braver than she actually was. Obviously she was brave or she never would have gotten into the underground bunker, but that was the extent of her bravery. She didn’t want to go into the bowels of whatever it was she was following, but at this point she felt invested. It was either continue forward or admit she failed.

Luckily, the corridor ended shortly after that, leading into a big room with no other exits. Unluckily, there was indeed still a dead body in the room, as Casey predicted there might be.

Raina moved hesitantly forward, toward the skeleton on the floor. She crouched next to it, hovering her light over top. It seemed well preserved, with the clothing still intact and the bones all in one spot. That meant scavengers hadn’t gotten into the underground bunker. There was no smell. She had been half expecting there to be the stench of death. She supposed that he probably did smell when he was decomposing, but now there were only bones.

This person had been Casey's bodyguard before Reyes had taken her from the house. This man had tried to kill Casey, having gone insane with psychotic love. He had died in the attempt and Casey had lived.

Ignoring the corpse, Raina explored the room, running her fingers down the walls, looking for an alternate escape route. There was none. It was becoming clear that this room was meant to be some kind of bolthole, not an actual way off the estate. Still, it might come in useful in the future.

Raina made her way back to the hole under the pool house, her shoulders slumping as she approached it. She'd really been hoping that there would be an alternate way out, because there was no chance she'd be able to reach the hole, let alone lift herself even if she was able to. She was going to have to call for help.

Mateo’s phone rang twice before he picked up. "Raina?" he asked sharply. "Where are you? Are you safe?"

She chewed her lip. “Have you read Alice in Wonderland?”

“Yes,” he growled. “Answer my question, are you alright?”

"I'm in the back yard," she said, stretching the truth. Technically she was under the back yard. "I could use some help getting back out of the rabbit hole."

"Did you hurt yourself?" he demanded. She could hear him moving, probably toward the back of the house.

"No," she was quick to assure him. "I'm just a little stuck."

"Where are you? I don't see you anywhere."

He must be looking for her on the estate lawns. "I'm in the pool house." Well, under the pool house.

Seconds later the door to the pool house opened and she could hear Mateo's heavy footfalls. She called out to him, drawing him towards the hole. He looked over the edge and down at her upturned face. His features conveyed a myriad of emotions. Bewilderment, annoyance, anger, concern. He shuttered his expression almost immediately. She wondered which emotion he decided to settle on.

"Did you fall in?" He knew better, though she supposed he was giving her the benefit of the doubt.

She sighed and thought about lying, but decided truth was better. "No, I was out for a walk and thought I would explore."

"Do you always move shelves and lift trapdoors when you're exploring?" He crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned against the shelf.

"Are you going to get me out of here, or what?" she demanded, frowning up at him.

He actually seemed to think about it, the bastard. Finally, he said, "I should leave you down there. It'd be a hell of a lot easier to keep an eye on you."

He moved away from the hole, his footfalls indicating that he was leaving the pool house.

"Hey! Where’re you going?" she asked, worried he was actually abandoning her in the hole.

A few minutes later he returned with a ladder and a few minutes after that Raina was free of the bunker. She felt much better stepping out from the pool house and into the warm Florida sunlight. She ran her hands down her goose pimpled arms. As they walked toward the house, Raina glanced at Mateo.

"What are you going to do about the underground bunker?" she asked curiously.

"Leave it. It was put there for a reason, a good one."

Raina shivered. The hole was put there specifically for the inhabitants of the mansion to escape to if ever the need should arise. She felt uneasy at the thought that it had been used in the past and could still be used in the future. It was eye-opening to comprehend that now that she was firmly part of Mateo's life, she was also part of the mafia life, which could put her in danger. She kept having these moments of realization. Not like a gradual acclimatization to her new reality, but like these sledgehammer moments. It was disconcerting.

"Sure, do whatever you want with the hole in the ground. But you want might want to clear the body out first."

For a moment Mateo said nothing, then the import of her words sank in and he looked at her incredulously. "There's a dead person in there?"

She grinned at him, opened the glass sliding doors and went inside.

25

The next day, Raina was pleased to see that, true to her word, Daniela Velazquez, interior designer, was making her way through the mansion with a tape measure and a notebook, Angela trailing after her with a bored expression. After she finished making notes, Daniela met with Raina in the dining room.

Raina loved everything Daniela came up with, despite there being a strange coolness to the designer. Raina still couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something almost hostile about the other woman. It was weird because she’d been pleasant and enthusiastic on the phone the day before.

Raina followed Daniela to the front door. Daniela shook Raina’s hand and assured her that she would start lining up contractors and searching for design pieces. Raina watched Daniela walk toward her vehicle, a flashy red convertible. Maybe Daniela didn’t like rich people? Or maybe she somehow knew her new clients were involved in organized crime and she didn’t approve.

Raina shrugged and stepped back into the house, closing the door and locking it. When she turned around, she nearly ran straight into Angela, who jumped back a step.

“I don’t like her,” Angela said bluntly.

Raina didn’t think it would be particularly professional to agree. Instead she said, “She’s a professional. It’s not her job to make friends here.”

Angela narrowed her eyes. “I don’t trust her.”

“Do you trust anyone?” Raina genuinely wanted to know. Angela’s hard exterior seemed to cover a hard interior.

“No,” Angela said with no inflection in her voice. “Except maybe Mateo.”

Raina wondered why Angela was so untrusting. Oddly, Raina felt comfortable around Angela. She felt instinctually that Angela would make a solid ally if Raina could earn her trust.

“You’ve been with Mateo for a long time?”

“Since I was a teen,” Angela said tersely. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to get back to work.”

Raina nodded and speculatively watched her walk away. There was a story there and Raina wanted to know what it was. She sensed that there was zero attraction between Mateo and Angela, yet they’d been together a long time. Had they ever considered hooking up? They would have made a good team. Deadly and beautiful.

Raina checked the time and realized she only had twenty minutes before she was expected at the dining table and she needed to shower. Mateo was a stickler for both punctuality and eating dinner together every evening.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Raina put the finishing touches on her makeup and admired herself in the mirror. When she took off her glasses, she could barely see herself in the mirror and had to lean in really close. She’d tried contact lenses when she was sixteen but had hated everything about them. It felt like putting sand in her eyes. The whole experience had made her appreciate her glasses even more.

Despite the annoyance of makeup application, she enjoyed the process of dressing up once in a while.

She chose a pair of black leggings with a soft shell-pink cashmere sweater. She wore a pair of cream-coloured spike heeled pumps on her feet. When she stood she wobbled, but after a few laps of her bedroom she got the hang of them. She’d found a limited supply of abandoned clothing in the closet and suspected that they belonged to Casey. After her conversation with the other woman she came to the conclusion that Mateo had put her in Casey's old bedroom.

There was only a handful of items. It was all good quality, but slightly large for Raina's petite frame. It became obvious that Casey was much taller than her and had longer feet. But Raina was able to make do. At least until she could get her own wardrobe.

Raina left the bedroom and made her way down to the dining room where she was five minutes late for the evening meal. As always, Mateo was waiting for her. He was a very punctual man and the sharp look that he gave her made it clear that he was taking note of her tardiness.

Raina smiled blithely and took her usual seat. She’d been at the mansion for four days now and was starting to settle into a routine. The only problem was that it was a routine she didn't particularly enjoy. She'd explored the mansion, taking notes and meeting with the interior decorator. Beyond that, she had nothing much to do and she was bored. She knew Mateo didn't want her leaving the mansion, but she had to convince him to lift the house arrest or she would go crazy.

The housekeeper, Lydia, came breezing into the dining room, her hands laden with dishes. Raina smiled up at her and helped take them out of Lydia’s hands, placing them on the table. Raina liked Lydia. The older woman was cheerful, efficient, and always had a ready ear for Raina. Raina had spent more time in the kitchen since arriving than she'd spent in all of her kitchens combined when she was travelling.

Once Lydia left the dining room, Raina and Mateo began eating. The meal consisted of a roast chicken with rosemary seasoning, potatoes, vegetables, and dessert.

"Do we have any plans for tomorrow?" Raina hoped she sounded nonchalant.

Mateo glanced up from his meal with a raised eyebrow. "What do you want, Raina?" he asked, cutting through her small talk.

"I want to go out shopping for the day."

She expected an argument from him, the man who had to have eyes on her at all times, especially since the bunker debacle. Instead, he surprised her by saying, "Done. Let Danny know what time you want to leave and he'll put together a team for you."

Once Raina was over her shock of his quick capitulation, she protested, "Why do I need a team? I'm just going shopping."

Mateo continued to eat, only speaking once he swallowed. "You will have a team of men with you every time you leave the house,” he said calmly. “This subject is not up for debate."

Raina badly wanted to debate the subject, but she wanted to leave the house more. She figured now was not the time to push Mateo on the ridiculous amount of security he insisted she have. She’d take that up with him next week, after she went shopping.

She gave him a tight smile. "Thank you. I’ll speak to Danny and let him know when I'd like to leave and where I'd like to go."

They continued their meal in silence. It was a comfortable silence though. They ate delicious food together, sipped wine, and watched the dying sunlight filtering through the window as it gradually gave way to dusk. The evening meal was becoming something that Raina looked forward to. A time for her to see Mateo with her own eyes, to assure herself that he still existed. She didn't know why she needed to do that. She suspected it had something to do with the feelings that she was developing for him, the feelings that she was still firmly in denial about.

As she finished her meal, she touched her napkin to her lips and placed it on the table. "I think I'll go back to my room now," she told him pushing herself away from the table.

Before she could stand, he reached out and took hold of her wrist. His dark eyes held the intensity that she was becoming used to whenever he said something important to her. She tensed under his grip.

"Your security team belongs to me, Raina. Which means they report to me." His eyes took on a hardness as she waited for his next words. "They report everything to me. Where you go, who you see, and what you do. Do not disappoint me."

She made a face and tugged her wrist away from his hand. He let her go. She preferred the Mateo that would joke around with her, whose banter, while dark, always held that edge of humour. This Mateo was far too serious. This Mateo was the boss and she didn't like it.

She debated on what she would say to him, epic retorts filtering through her mind. Finally, she settled on, "The only person who can disappoint you is you. If my actions disappoint you, then you've set me on too high of a pedestal."

He leaned back in his chair, sitting his elbow on the table as he contemplated her. "Perhaps I do set you on a pedestal. And perhaps you are correct, my expectations are too high." She felt a moment of elation that he was agreeing with her, then he added, "But it’s not my expectations that require adjusting. You will stay on top of any pedestal I set you on. I will make sure of it."

26

Raina told herself it was going to be okay, that she hadn’t specified exactly what kind of shopping she wanted to do, and Mateo had agreed to let her go. She was in the process of wandering the isles of Office Depot with a frowning Danny. Angela was covering the main entrance while Thomas waited in the vehicle. Mateo had put all of his best people on her. Raina was starting to realize he meant it when he said she wouldn’t be going anywhere without a security detail.

“What exactly are we shopping for?” Danny asked, skepticism clear in his voice.

It was possible that Danny was under the impression she would be shopping for things like clothes, shoes, and handbags. It wasn't her fault he was making assumptions, but she supposed she should come up with some kind of explanation to give him.

"Scrapbooking supplies," she said cheerfully, tossing another cartridge of ink into her shopping cart.

"You need a $2000 high-resolution printer, a precision knife and paintbrushes for scrapbooking?" He pointed at the items piled in her shopping cart.

She turned to him with a disappointed expression, trying her hardest to look innocent. "Of course, I do. How else will I immortalize my memories?"

He snorted. "Seems to me you're collecting all of the necessary supplies for a printing press."

She attempted to look suitably shocked. "And what exactly would I need a printing press for?"

Danny crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes as he continued to trail after her. "You do know that your mother was keeping a close eye on you while you were in Pennsylvania? She was well aware of everything you got up to, including your little forgery business."

"Really?" She didn't know how to feel about that. She'd known that Vee had kept tabs on her to some extent, but Raina had done a good job of hiding her forging business. Not even Joe and Diane had known.

"Really," Danny confirmed. A brief smile lifted the edge of his lips. "Your mother is quite proud. She says you have a good head for business."

Raina beamed her pleasure. She couldn't help it. She was a good forger and it felt awesome to know that her mother, a badass mafia queen, thought Raina was a good businessperson.

"Are you going to tell Mateo?" she asked Danny.

He sighed heavily and rubbed at a spot between his brows. She wondered if she was giving him an irritation headache. Sometimes she did that the people.

"What exactly do you intend to do with this set up you’re putting together?"

Raina excitedly told him her plan. "I still have a few commissions that I wasn't able to get to before I was shot in Venice. I want to finish those and then ship the proofs to their owners. I had some really good clients; I can ask them for references. Then I'll put feelers out through the underworld, letting people know that I'm in town and my services are available."

"I don't want to dash your dreams here, missy. But the wife of Mateo Gutierrez, the newest boss in town, absolutely cannot be setting up her own side hustle. Especially one that her husband doesn't know about."

Raina frowned irritably. "We’re not married."

She was pretty much over having people tell her what she could and couldn't do as Mateo’s wife. As far she was concerned, they didn't even have a wedding date. She told Danny as much.

Danny took his phone out and started texting.

"Who are you texting?" she asked angrily, already knowing the answer.

"Mateo," he grunted, confirming her suspicions. But before she could start yelling at him for betraying her, he looked up with a smug expression. "Your wedding date is July 14th."

Raina's mouth fell open. July 14th was only a couple months away. "Did you just tell Mateo that I wanted a wedding date?"

"Yes." Danny calmly took hold of her cart and continued pushing it.

Well shit. That hadn't gone how she planned. Now she had a wedding date. She didn't want a wedding date. She had a fucking wedding to plan too! She had a business to set up and a wedding to plan. She decided then and there to never engage in a conversation like this with Danny again. That guy was too clever by half.

Raina continued shopping, spending the rest of the day doing exactly what Mateo had expected her to. She bought enough clothing, jewelry, shoes and handbags to fill her entire walk-in closet. She didn't particularly enjoy shopping, but there was something about using Mateo's credit card that gave her a vicious spark of glee every time she handed it to a salesclerk.

It was early evening when Raina decided she was finished. They headed back to the mansion, her sitting in the backseat with Angela. Danny and Thomas sat in the front seat. There were three more security men in the car behind them.

Less than an hour later, Raina made her way to the dining room where Mateo was waiting for her. Her heart gave a flutter when she looked at him. He looked good. He always looked good, but tonight, he was wearing a suit and tie. There was something about a man in a suit, his tattoos peeking out through the collar of his shirt and the ends of his sleeves, that made her feel all warm and tingly inside.

She sank down onto her chair and reached for her napkin. He intercepted her, placing his hand on her arm.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, taking her napkin and smoothing it across her lap.

"Do you care?"

He frowned at her. "Don’t play verbal games with me, Raina," he warned. "I will only tolerate so much of your lip. If I didn't care I wouldn't ask."

"I just mean that you already know what I've spent the day doing. Your men update you every single time I cough. I can't even go to the bathroom without one of them talking to you about my bowel health." She was being purposefully provocative to get her point across. It was one thing for him to send the security team with her and quite another to spy on her constantly.

Mateo didn’t take the bait. "Having my men report on your movements is not the same thing as you telling me how you are. If I ask about your day, then you’ll answer promptly and truthfully. I want to know your feelings, your desires, your frustrations, everything."

Raina stared at him completely tongue-tied. She didn't know what to say to that. He was so domineering, yet also sweet. What had she done to earn such devotion from him? She’d been nothing but contrary with him, yet he still spoke to her this way. He was endlessly patient while she pushed him at every opportunity. She didn't mean to punish him, not really. She saw a lot wrong in the world, especially the one she was being forced to inhabit, and she was taking it out on him.

She swallowed the snarky reply she’d originally planned on and told him the truth. "I had a good day. It was really nice to get away from the mansion for a bit and out into the city. Miami is beautiful."

"Yes, it is," he said, leaning back in his seat, his voice becoming more conversational. "Have you been here before?"

Raina shook her head. "We didn't have a lot of money when I was growing up and didn’t have the opportunity to travel much. It was pretty exciting when we could go camping in a neighbouring county." Raina smiled fondly as she thought of camping with her parents. "A far cry from the places I visited in the past few years."

"Yet I sense that you wouldn't trade any of those camping trips for a trip to Paris. Am I right?" He asked, his eyes roving over her features, memorizing her expressions as she made them.

Raina nodded her head in agreement. "My parents are really amazing people. We didn’t have much when I was growing up, but we had each other. No matter what was going on, I always knew that I was loved beyond measure."

The food arrived and their conversation fell off for a few minutes as Lydia placed the various platters on the table. She was serving Mediterranean themed dishes, including souvlaki chicken with tzatziki, Caesar salad and rice. There was a small plate of baklava for after their meal. Raina thanked Lydia for the food.

As they started to eat, the conversation continued. "I grew up quite poor as well," Mateo told her.

Raina looked up in surprise. Mateo rarely talked about his childhood, even when she had pushed him in Venezuela. "I lived with my mother, two siblings and my grandfather. Mi Madre was single and unable to support us, so me and my sisters had to get jobs."

"Is that how you met Sotza?" Raina asked curiously.

"Sort of. At first all of my jobs were legitimate. I did food deliveries on my bike, I delivered messages, but as I grew, I realized the more lucrative jobs were not legal. I gradually became mixed up in the local street gangs. That was where Sotza found me. I was supposed to rip him off, intercept an arms shipment along with a couple of other boys."

Raina sucked in a breath. "From everything I've heard of Sotza, that was a very dangerous thing to do. You could've been killed."

Mateo nodded and looked at her seriously. "That was why my boss at the time had his underlings do the dirty work. Rather than get his hands dirty he sacrificed us instead. Luckily for us, Sotza saw us as the young ignorant pups we were. He let us go and paid a visit to the boss. That was the last time I saw the guy. Shortly after, Sotza came to me with a job. Something low-level. But over the years I proved my loyalty and he promoted me up the ranks."

Raina was discovering a new admiration for Mateo. He'd not had an easy life, but he jumped on the opportunities that presented themselves, worked hard and earned everything he achieved. Though he worked on the wrong side of the law, he still held all the qualities she admired. He was honest, hard-working, loyal and protective.

"What about your family now?"

"I send them as much money as I can," he told her. "I’m in the advantageous position of making enough that I can make their lives far more comfortable. They don't know exactly what I do to earn my living, but they’re grateful and supportive."

Raina could hear the fondness in his voice as he spoke of his family. "Do you visit them?"

He lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. "As often as I can, maybe once every few years. But I don't want to drag them into this business. If they’re seen in my presence, they could become targets."

Targets.

That was what Raina had become. It was a vulnerable position to be in, especially considering she’d recently been shot by Italy’s version of Mateo and his gangster thugs. Despite this disturbing thought, Raina vowed silently to find a way to reconnect Mateo with his family. It didn't seem fair that they all cared about each other, that Mateo sent them money, but they were unable to visit.

They finished their meal in companionable silence. After, Mateo took Raina's arm and walked her back to her room. This was a first, but not unwelcome. Throughout their evening meals she was beginning to feel closer to this quiet, thoughtful man. She wanted to know more about him, wanted to spend more time with him. Especially with their upcoming nuptials.

When they reached Raina's door, Mateo put a hand on her arm and turned her to face him. He wrapped his hand around her arm, holding her in place, but not tightly. If she stepped back, she could remove herself from his embrace. She didn't step away though. They stood silently looking at each other.

"I want to kiss you." His words were husky, his dark eyes smouldering with what Raina suspected was lust. An answering arrow of heat shot through her.

"I want to kiss you too," Raina said breathlessly.

It was such a strange moment. Them standing together in a mansion where they were attempting to make a home. He’d forced her there, as he'd forced many parts of her life. She should hate him, yet he was impossible to hate. The moment felt almost like they were normal couple, falling in love, getting to know each other. She didn't want it to end. She didn't want to go back to the endless strife that seemed to be the mafia.

"May I?" he asked, a husky timber to his voice.

"Yes," she whispered, surprised he was bothering to ask. Mateo never asked for anything. Yet, this moment felt different. Separate from reality. They were just a man and a woman, experiencing an insane amount of chemistry.

He didn't waste any more time. He lowered his head to hers, curving his arm around her neck to hold her in place. Raina tilted her head back against his arm and waited for his lips touched hers. The kiss was beautiful, it was electric. It sent heat spiraling through her body, from her nipples to her pussy. Everything flooded with desire. And that from only the barest touch of his lips to hers. She wanted more.

She lifted her arms to wrap them around him, to pull him closer, to deepen the kiss, but he pushed her back, held her arms, his expression regretful. "Not yet," he said, almost to himself.

"When?" Raina demanded, then could've smacked herself. Seriously? When? She may as well get it over with and beg him for sex.

He chuckled. "Soon, mi amor. Trust me, I will not be able to wait much longer."

Raina didn't know why he was waiting at all, but she wasn't about to say anything that would make her sound even more desperate. She stepped away from him, murmured good night and reached for her door handle.

Before she could open it, his voice stopped her.

"Make sure that your scrapbooking project doesn’t get you into trouble," he growled, well aware of what she was up to.

Raina threw a grin over her shoulder, winked at him and slipped into her room, closing the door behind her.

27

It took two days for Raina to properly set up her forging equipment. She chose an office on the ground floor facing the sprawling back yard. It had double French doors and softer, more feminine decor. She suspected it was meant to be a woman's office, but she didn't think it had ever been used.

She set up all of her equipment, her perfectionism at the forefront as she made sure everything was flawless. As per her usual, she printed a couple of fake passports and driver’s licenses for herself, making sure that everything looked absolutely perfect. She beamed at the miniature picture of herself, pushed her glasses up her nose and set about finishing some of the contracts she had to leave behind in Italy.

Forging spoke to her. It was her art. It required precision, skill and a great deal of knowledge on world identifications. Passports were different from country to country. Many countries, including the US, used biographical microchips. They implanted the passports with chips that contained information on the holder. She also had to be sure that the picture used inside the passport contained the necessary biometrics; meaning they had to pass face recognition software.

She set out the tools she would need: glue, metallic stickers, ink pads and stamps. She picked up the first passport and carefully peeled away the binding thread. She used the intaglio printing process to create fine individual lines for the decorative border. As she worked, a sort of meditative state captured her. She lost track of time as she concentrated.

This passport would go to a Saudi princess intent on leaving her husband and her country. She had contacted Raina after learning that Raina was one of the top forgers in the world. The job was important to Raina, not only because the Princess was paying an exorbitant amount of money, but because Raina had learned bits and pieces of the princess’s current existence and it wasn't pretty. Raina was determined to do her best to help get the princess out of her situation by creating a document that would be undetectable as a forgery.

She leaned back in her seat, completely satisfied with her work. She closed the passport and pushed it inside an envelope, sealing the envelope. On the front was an address the princess had provided. The document would go to one of her loyal followers, a servant inside her Dubai penthouse.

"I think we need to set up some ground rules for you. It took me twenty minutes to locate you in this mausoleum," Mateo's voice drawled from behind her.

Raina jumped, not having heard the door open. She twisted around in her seat to look at him.

"Maybe we should set up some ground rules for you," Raina countered. "You seem to come and go at will. Maybe a bell around your neck so I know when you’re sneaking up on me?"

Mateo's lips twitched in amusement. "You want to know where I am at all times, mi amor?"

"Not really," she countered. "How about your ground rules include you knocking on doors?"

He took a few steps toward her, his dark eyes sweeping her from top to bottom. Raina felt self-conscious and quickly ran one hand over her thighs, smoothing her jeans and the other over her hair, tucking a lock behind her ear.

"If I were to knock on the door before entering, you would have time to gather yourself. I prefer to see you uninhibited, without the time for that sharp brain to come up with some kind of challenge for me."

Raina blushed as she imagined what he might see when walking into a room unexpectedly. Particularly, her bedroom.

She was about to say something tart in return when he stopped her, raising his hand and speaking. "I would like you to come outside with me."

Raina raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and stood. It wasn't like she had anything else to do. She had finished her last commission and was waiting for more to come in.

They left through the French doors of her office, which led straight out onto the pool patio. "This way," Mateo said, taking her arm.

Near the pool was an outdoor gym with weights, benches and mats. Raina had seen this area before while exploring the mansion, but she avoided it. She’d never really been a weightlifting girl. Her arms resembled sticks more than anything that might have real muscle.

Mateo escorted her onto one of the mats and then let go of her arm, standing opposite her.

"Fight me," he commanded her.

Raina frowned at him. "You want me to do what?"

"I want you to fight me."

Raina was beginning to believe that he was serious. She spent enough time with Mateo now to understand his various moods, not that there were many. He tended to be either neutral, serious or annoyed. Sometimes funny, in a dark sort of way.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "If you recall, the last time I fought you, I lost."

Not only had she lost, but she'd ended up drugged and in Venezuela for a month, then two years on the run after that. If she learned anything from that experience, it was that she should avoid fighting Mateo.

He shook his head, frustrated. She sort of felt sorry for him. Mateo was a man of action, not words. He also held a great deal of power, which meant he didn't have to explain himself to many people. However, she fully intended to set the precedent that he would be 100% accountable to his future wife. Which meant explaining himself, if need be.

"Why do you want me to fight you?" she demanded. “We both know you can kick my ass. If you need an ego boost, go talk to Danny. He looks like he’ll present more of a challenge.”

Mateo was nearly a foot taller than her and weighed 100 pounds more. It was never going to be a fair fight between the two of them.

"When I picked you up on your university campus, you fought me," he said insistently, as if encouraging her to do it again.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah and look how that ended."

"What I'm saying is, you had training. You challenged me, if only for a few seconds. That doesn't happen. Very few people, especially women of your size, are able to challenge me." He ran a hand through his hair ruffling it, obviously frustrated with the direction of this conversation.

Raina waved her hand dismissively in the air. "I caught you by surprise. You didn't know I'd taken any self-defense training. You probably thought you had an easy mark."

He nodded, pointing at her. "Exactly. I thought you would be an easy pick up, and you did take me by surprise. No one takes me by surprise."

She was beginning to get where he was going with this. Cautiously, she asked, "Are you asking for a rematch? Because I haven't exactly been honing my skills in case you hadn't noticed when I got shot in Italy."

"I'm not asking for a rematch, little girl," he said, with some amusement. "I'm looking to teach you a few things. In case anyone else ever tries to grab you. You take them by surprise, the way you did me. Only, if you're attacked again, you take them by surprise, you take them down, and you kill them."

She stared at him in consternation. She hadn't considered that he might want to teach her how to fight better. It shifted the way she viewed him. It was like he didn't care if she used her skills to fight him as long as she survived any other potential attack. That knowledge was something she didn't want to examine too closely. It fit with the apparent devotion he was showing toward her. She didn't know how to deal with it.

"You spend half the time watching what I eat in case it tips the delicate balance of my kidney health, yet now you're proposing to teach me how to fight. You don't make any sense to me," she challenged him, pointing out his contradiction.

Instead of defending himself, he said, "No, I don't imagine I do make sense to you. Not yet anyway."

"What does that mean?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

But before she could get an answer, he was lunging for her. She let out a shriek, flung herself to the side, gripped his elbow and tripped him. He didn't go down. He was too skilled to go down, but he stumbled and it took him a second to turn around and face her again. When he did, a grin was spread across his face, as if to say I told you so.

Raina clapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to do that; it had been automatic. Muscle memory from all those self-defense classes.

"Well done," he praised, striding back toward her. "Now, when I attack you again, this is what I want you to do – "

Raina had a surprisingly good time learning combat tactics with Mateo. He didn't just teach her self-defense, he taught her how to finish an opponent if she needed to. How to make sure the attacker stayed down so they couldn't grab hold of her again.

Over and over Mateo would attack and she was forced to go on the defensive. She learned different ways to throw her hands up, to lunge, to kick, to use dirty tactics to take an opponent down.

By the time they finished, she was laying on the ground, heaving for breath and grinning broadly. Mateo, who was standing over top of her, dropped to the ground beside her. She looked over at him. He had barely broken a sweat, whereas she was practically dripping. Still, he looked satisfied, pleased by her performance, which lit a small fire inside her. She didn't want to become his trained monkey and actively resisted his orders so that she could retain her independence, but deep down, she liked it when he looked at her like that, as though he felt pride in her.

"Again?" she asked, inviting him for another round.

He rolled over onto his hands and pushed himself up in a push-up, his biceps bulging against his T-shirt, threatening to tear the seams. He sat back on his heels and held a hand out to her. "Again."

28

Raina ached everywhere. It was the ache of using muscles she hadn’t used in a long time. Throughout the week she'd been training with Mateo, Angela or Danny depending on who was available. The more she got out on the mat, the more she wanted to spar. All of her opponents were highly skilled, and she was learning fast.

Despite the fun she was having, Raina decided to take a day off to recover. She was curled up in her window seat, a plush blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a cup of herbal tea on the table beside her. At her feet was a battered romance novel that Mateo had sent to her room. The Hellion Bride by Catherine Coulter. Either Mateo had a thing for historical fiction, or he was making a joke at her expense.

She was in the process of painting her toenails bright pink. When she was finished, she was going to start the book.

Raina had to admit that her life at the mansion was starting to settle into a kind of pattern, an enjoyable one even. During the day she either worked or shopped. In the afternoons she usually sparred with whoever was available, and in the evenings, she had a leisurely dinner with Mateo.

So far he'd shown up for every single one, despite the pressure of taking over one of the biggest crime capitals in the world. Their meals had not only become a must, but something that she wanted to do. Sometimes, she and Mateo didn't speak at all, just sat and ate in companionable silence. Sometimes they chatted about their daily activities, like what Raina shopped for that day or how the renovations on the mansion were going. Other times, they fought like cats and dogs, but Raina loved every minute of it. For some reason, she felt safe using her sharp wit on Mateo. He never got angry with her and his counterarguments were intelligent. He filled her mind with things that she never thought about before.

Without warning, her bedroom door opened, startling her. She frowned at the presumption but let out a sigh when she saw Mateo.

"I thought we talked about the knocking thing," she grouched at him, carefully applying the next layer of polish to her toenails.

He didn't address her snarky comment, but walked closer to her, watching her carefully. He always did that. Watched her with a look in his eyes that he reserved especially for her. A kind of intense scrutiny, but not one that made her nervous. On the contrary, by the time his face smoothed into a blank expression she usually managed to catch a brief look of satisfaction. As though he was pleased with everything he saw when he looked at her. It started a small glow inside of her, one that grew brighter with every passing day, with every glance.

"May I sit?"

Raina shot him a skeptical look. "Since when do you ask?"

Mateo reached out for a chair and pulled it up next to the window seat, sitting beside her, close enough that his knee brushed against her thigh. At that single accidental touch, her entire body began to vibrate with tension. She didn't know how he did it so easily, but something about him made every particle of her being stand up and take notice. It was like the skin of her thigh had suddenly become hypersensitive.

"Pretty colour," he said, nodding toward her feet, his voice gruff.

Raina raised an eyebrow at him and stuck her toes out for him to admire. She replaced the top on the nail polish and set it aside, then shifted in the seat to give Mateo a piercing look.

"You didn't come in here to talk to me about my nails, did you?"

"Perhaps I like being with you, no matter what you're doing." His eyes held hers so that she could see the seriousness, though the banter was light.

She snorted and pushed her glasses back up her nose. "Next you'll tell me that you watch me while I'm sleeping."

He gave her a wolfish grin, one that stole the breath from her chest. He rarely looked at her like that and when he did, he captivated her. "You do this adorable snore when you sleep on your back. And you sigh like a woman having secret dreams when you roll over onto your side."

Raina stared at him in horror. Was he serious? Or was he just pulling her leg? She couldn't tell. But if she was being honest with herself, she would admit that he absolutely had the capacity, ability and arrogance to watch her sleep.

Sometimes he seemed like such a normal guy and then other times… she didn't have a clue what he was thinking.

"Are you going to tell me why you're here?" she pushed. "I doubt it's to watch me sleep since it's only 4 o'clock."

He nodded, his face growing serious. "Our wedding is less than two months away."

Raina made a hissing sound as she sucked air in through her teeth. "Thanks for the reminder."

"You do need the reminder," he countered, his voice growing harder. "As far as I can tell you haven't made a single wedding plan."

"You expect me to plan this wedding? A wedding that, I should remind you, I want nothing to do with." A jolt went through her as she said the words. Something inside her brain whispered liar. "Why don't you plan the wedding?"

Mateo studied her, his face shuttered, not giving anything away. She wondered if she'd hurt him by telling him to his face that she didn't want to marry him. She shrugged it off. It was his own fault for forcing her into the situation. What did he expect? That she would be all sunshine and roses when it came to the idea of planning her own shotgun wedding.

"If you leave the wedding planning to me," he drawled. "Then we’ll be getting married tomorrow in my office and you’ll be moving into my bedroom directly after. Is this something you want? Would you like to expedite our wedding?"

He spoke with such a quiet intensity that Raina knew immediately he was serious. If he had the choice, he would marry her tomorrow. Her heart sped up at the idea and her mouth went dry. Though she suspected his question was rhetorical, meant to scare her, she actually gave it some thought. What if she did take the plunge? Marry Mateo tomorrow, move into his bedroom, become his wife for real.

A warm glow slowly spread through her body at the thought of marrying Mateo and sharing his bed in less than twenty-four hours. But that warm glow was followed closely by a wave of fear. She couldn't do it. She wasn't ready. The whole situation was too much. Mateo was too much. She was still learning how to navigate her new reality.

She shook her head. "I’d rather wait."

"Then you’ll need some help. I don't think you’re capable of planning a wedding in two months by yourself, and I don’t want you stressing yourself out trying." He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to defend herself. "You have some wonderful qualities, but I suspect event planning isn't one of them. You’re a loner. And there's nothing wrong with that, but I believe some help will make this easier on you."

Okay, he wasn’t wrong about the loner thing. Raina was one of those people that gained energy from being alone. She liked that Mateo didn't seem to mind that she wasn't a social creature. That she felt shy and awkward around too many people and tended to avoid crowds. Purposefully planning a wedding that would include a crowd did seem a little beyond her.

"Who are you suggesting help me?" she asked tentatively.

"Your mother." He said, tapping her phone, which was on the bench beside her, Betty Boop case on full display.

"Which mother do you think should help me?"

Her mothers were so different that Raina could only imagine what they would come up with for the wedding. Diane would definitely want more of a simple rustic theme; she'd be all about making the guests comfortable. Vee… well… Raina wasn't entirely sure what Vee would want. She didn't know her birth mother well enough yet, but she suspected Vee would be all about the expensive dresses, flowers and catering.

"Talk to both of them," he said as he stood up.

"Okay."

Mateo set the chair aside and stepped up to Raina's side, towering over her. She tilted her head to look at him, her heart pounding in anticipation. He reached for her, his hand going to her chin to tip her face up. She suspected he wanted a kiss, but as his hand touched her face, out of the corner of her eye she saw deep scrapes. She grabbed hold of his hand and brought it up to eye level. His knuckles were red and raw, and covered in scrapes.

She looked up at him, her fingers still holding his hand. "You hit someone." It wasn't a question. She knew they were offensive wounds.

He didn't bother to deny it and he didn't try to joke it off by saying she should see the other guy. Instead he held her gaze and moved his hand so that he was cupping her chin. He was traced his thumb over the smooth skin and said, "So fucking beautiful. I don’t know how I’ll wait until our wedding."

His eyes narrowed as he scanned her. She squirmed in the window seat, suddenly wishing that she was wearing more than a brief pair of shorts and a cami top. She felt vulnerable and his words sounded like a warning.

"I don’t know if I can wait until our wedding either," she admitted.

He released her chin and turned to walk away. At the door he paused and glanced back at her. "You may invite your mother for a visit, if you wish." He thought about it for second and seemed to gird himself for the next sentence. "Both of them."

Raina snickered as she pictured Mateo and Vee inhabiting the same house while the wedding planning was going on. She suddenly realized that was exactly the sort of drama she needed in her life.

29

The next day, at precisely 1 PM sharp, Angela escorted Daniela into Raina's office. Daniela inclined her head gracefully and gave Raina a tight smile before sitting primly on one of the leather seats. She was sophisticated, efficient, elegant, utterly beautiful and kind of terrifying.

Raina stood and came out from behind her desk, dropping onto the sofa across from Daniela. She narrowed her eyes at Daniela and watched as the other woman opened her leather portfolio and started spreading out samples on the small table in between them.

Despite Raina's every attempt, Daniela refused to warm up to her. Raina couldn't put her finger on why. There was usually a reason if someone didn't like her, but with Daniela, Raina sensed that whatever it was it wasn't personal. At least not personal to her. Perhaps, Daniela had a grudge against her mother.

"Did you happen to know an Elvira Montana?" Raina asked as casually as she could. "She would have lived here about five years ago. Perhaps used your services?"

Daniela looked up sharply, a frown marring her perfect Latina features. "No, I haven't heard of her, but if she requires interior decorating then please give her my card." Daniela’s voice was cool and professional. "Now if I could bring your attention to…"

Raina pushed her feelings aside. If Daniela chose not to like her, then that was Daniela's problem, not Raina's. Maybe Daniela was one of those women that didn't particularly like being around other women. Saw them as competition.

Raina buckled down and worked with Daniela for the rest of the afternoon, pouring over paint, tile, and texture samples. Raina wanted to enjoy the process; she really did, but the reality was, she really didn’t care at all about matching anything. She was not a domestic goddess.

However, she did appreciate being surrounded by beauty, so she attempted to put some real effort into the project. Frequently, Daniela would give her head a small shake and redirect Raina if she believed Raina was going off the rails when it came to choosing samples.

It didn't take long before Raina realized that her home was going to be mostly fashioned by the elegant interior decorator. She decided not to care. If the outcome was beautiful, then Raina was more than happy to accept it. What she wanted out of this whole project was to erase any trace of Ignacio Hernandez from the home. So far, so good.

She was in the process of turning the man's office into a library. This was the one room that she was taking a heavy hand in decorating; it was to be a gift for Mateo. Knowing his love of the written word, Raina poured over hundreds of library designs on Pinterest and had chosen a few to combine.

The room was dark, but the windows and French doors leading out into the gardens would keep it from feeling oppressive. The bookshelves and the desk were made from cherry oak and she'd commissioned a couple of original paintings. When it was finished, the room would have a gothic romantic theme without crossing over into feminine. She thought that Mateo would appreciate his new library.

After she finished with the interior decorator, Raina settled back behind her desk to make a few phone calls. She decided to take Mateo's advice and speak to her mothers. Both of them. At the same time. She needed advice. It helped that they loved each other as well and made it clear that they had Raina's best interests at heart.

Raina set up the three-way call and waited breathlessly for the two women to connect. Vee was first.

"Raina?" Her voice was clipped but eager.

"I'm here," Raina said happily, smiling at hearing her mother's voice.

"I'm here too!" Diane's voice chirped. "So good to hear both of you. This was such a wonderful idea, Raina. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to figure out the mechanics of it, but Joe helped."

Raina smiled at the image of her mother struggling to understand a new technology. Diane was an extremely capable woman in many ways, but she had no appreciation for modern technology. Every time smart phones received a new upgrade, Diane was the first to shake her head. It had taken a lot of convincing for Raina to get her mom to give up her BlackBerry and buy a smart phone.

"Talk to me about this wedding," Vee demanded. "I want to know everything."

"Yes, everything!" Diane gushed.

It was funny that both of her mothers had the same reaction, but for very different reasons. Vee didn’t want Raina marrying into the mob and had spent many hours over the past few weeks grilling Raina on her future plans. Vee made it clear that she didn't entirely approve of the wedding, but she didn't have a choice in the matter. If she had been able to help Raina escape again, she would've done it. Diane, on the other hand, loved Mateo and was extremely excited for the upcoming nuptials.

"To be honest, that's why I'm calling. I need help," Raina said. "According to Mateo, our wedding is supposed to be in a few months, but I don't have a clue what I'm doing. I don't know anything about flowers, dresses, wedding invitations. The whole thing feels like a nightmare, but he insists that it has to happen."

Vee snorted. "I've been in that boat and it wasn't particularly fun."

Vee had been completely against marrying Sotza, but he hadn’t given her a choice. He had essentially locked her up until the moment she was forced to take her vows with him. Despite that, the marriage was a happy one.

"It'll be fine, honey," Diane said reassuringly. "Once we finish seeding the fields, I should be free to fly down to Miami and help you with some of this. I don't know if my tastes are any good for the fancy people that’ll probably be coming to the wedding, but I'll help where I can."

"Thank you, mom, that's exactly what I needed to hear."

"If Diane is heading your way, then so am I.” Vee’s voice had more of a menacing quality than Diane's had. Raina bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

"I prefer if my fiancé stays alive until the wedding," Raina said dryly, pointing out the dislike between Mateo and Vee.

"I won't kill him," Vee assured her. "Not unless he tries to kill me first."

"Well that makes me feel better," Raina said sarcastically.

"Oh, you two," Diane said with gentle chiding. "So much alike."

Raina felt a rush of love for both women. It was beautiful to her that they were both able to love Raina and be part of her life while maintaining a friendship themselves. There was no jealousy and no fighting over Raina. They wanted her to be happy. It was hard not to feel loved when she was surrounded by such difference, but strong and independent women.

They made plans for both Vee and Diane to fly out the following week. They would stay for several days and help with the wedding plans, then they would be back in a couple of months for the actual wedding.

Raina hung up feeling content.

30

Later that night, Raina was sound asleep in her bedroom when the door was flung open. She blinked rapidly and shielded her eyes from the sudden glare of light coming in from the hallway. She pushed herself up in bed and stared toward the door squinting at the blurry person who interrupted her beauty sleep.

"Mateo?" she asked sleepily, covering a yawn.

"It's me," he confirmed, striding toward her bed, taking hold of the edge of her comforter and dragging it off her. "Get up, you're coming with me."

His voice was serious, his demeanor foreboding and closed off. What was going on? It must be something awful for him to wake her up this way.

As she climbed out of bed, Mateo strode to her closet, jerked the door open and disappeared inside.

"Hey!" she yelped, wobbling to her feet and taking a couple of steps after him.

She didn't want him rifling through her stuff, particularly the lingerie and other delicates. They hadn’t established that kind of relationship yet and until they did, she didn't want him looking at the things she wore beneath her clothes.

Before she could follow him into the closet and scold him, he came back out and tossed a bundle at her. "Put these on, meet me downstairs.”

"Are you going tell me what's going on?" she yelled after him as he quickly exited the room. She could hear his shoes tapping against the marble as he made his way rapidly down the hall toward the stairway.

She made a face, shoved her glasses on and began dressing in a pair of baggy sweatpants, a stretchy tank top and an oversized hoodie that zipped up the front. She pulled on a pair of sweat socks and running shoes and then took off after Mateo, curiosity driving her steps down to the main floor.

She was positive that if they were in a life or death situation that Mateo wouldn’t have left her alone. He would've stayed with her while she changed, and he would've protected her as they left the mansion. No, this was something else, and she was dying to know what.

She nearly crashed into him as she hurtled down the marble steps to the main floor, leaping off the last two steps and landing flat on her feet. She gasped as a hand gripped her arm to steady her. She looked up into Mateo's deadly serious face. His eyes were shuttered, cold as the grave. His face was devoid of all expression. This was scary Mateo.

She took a step back and got another good look at him. Holy shit, was that blood on his clothes? She wanted to ask him, but he took hold of her wrist and walked her toward the back of the house. He was so fast that if she didn't keep up, she was positive he would drag her.

What the hell was going on?

He walked straight through the back door and into the yard, toward the outdoor gym. Once they were on the workout mats Mateo dropped her wrist, kicked off his shoes and reached for his shirt, dragging it over his head. He stood in front of her wearing only a pair of pants and a leather belt. His chiseled chest was only somewhat visible in the dim lighting of the backyard, but she squinted, trying to trace every detail.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" she asked him, hands on her hips.

He ignored her question and growled, "Take your shoes off, get into position."

Raina thought about it. The rebel in her wanted to argue, to demand what he was thinking, waking her up in the middle of the night and forcing her into the back yard for a fighting session. But the other part of her, the woman who was gradually becoming attached to the man standing across from her, urged her to do as he said.

For one thing, the faster she took off her shoes and got into position, the faster she could get her hands on that bare chest, even if it was a quick feel as he dropped her to the mat. But the other reason she was more inclined to obey, was the look on his face. Though it was completely blank, she sensed an underlying turmoil. Something was hurting him, something that he didn't know how to process. He was dealing by dragging her into the yard in the middle of the night.

She kicked off her running shoes, tossing them to the side of the mat and then reached for the zip on her hoodie. Though the night was somewhat cool, she would warm up quickly once they got started.

Mateo was merciless. He attacked, he punched, he kicked, he threw her across the open space. As she hit the mat for the third time and rolled until she hit the grass, Mateo strode over loomed over her. He wasn't even breathing hard, but he wore a thunderous expression. He was angry that she couldn't fight back the way he wanted her to.

He reached down and gripped both of her arms, lifting her up so high that her feet left the ground before he set her back down. "Again," he demanded, taking a few steps back and lifting his arms in an aggressive position.

She shook her head, rubbing her shoulder where it had been jarred by her last fall. "I need a break, Mateo," she begged him. "I need some water."

There was a catch in her voice. She felt like she was going to cry. The Mateo that she'd been sparring with all week had been gentle, fun, patient. He’d been teaching her different defensive techniques, but he'd made it clear that sparring was also an excuse to get his hands on her. He hadn't hurt her. Now, he wasn’t playing around. He hit her hard and yelled at her when she didn't properly defend herself.

She turned away so he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes and reached for the mini fridge that sat out next to the workout area. She pulled a bottle of water out and uncapped it.

Mateo came up alongside her and after she'd finished gulping down half the water, he took it from her hands, drained it and tossed the empty bottle over his shoulder. He took her arm and pulled her back onto the mat.

"Again," he said firmly.

Once more, Raina was forced to defend herself as Mateo came at her, taking hold of her arms, her hair, her waist and throwing her. He would aim punches and kicks at her while she was down, forcing her to roll away or kick up at him. She used every technique that he, Danny and Angela had taught her, every technique she learned in self-defense classes at university. It still wasn't enough. He countered every move she made almost before she made it and then he showed her why she needed to defend herself.

She knew that Mateo was stronger and more skilled than her, but she'd never imagined that he could be this brutal. And she knew, that even though he was hitting her hard, he was still pulling his punches. She suspected that if he really hit her full force that he would be shattering her bones. The thought that he had that kind of power made her shudder in fear. It was one thing suspecting that someone you cared about could do something horrible to you, it was quite another to see it firsthand.

Finally, after they'd been sparring for hours and Raina hit the mat for probably the dozenth time, she threw her arms up as he came at her and yelled, "Stop!"

Mateo ignored her scream, took hold of her wrist, flipped her onto her stomach and kneeled on her back, twisting her wrist up behind her until she felt as though her arm would break. This was the third time he’d done this to her and so far, she hadn’t been able to break the hold.

It was at this point that an exhausted Raina burst into tears. She lay helpless beneath Mateo’s bulk, sobbing her heart out. He moved quickly off her and fell to his knees beside her. He reached for her. She didn't trust him to be nice to her, if his intent was to comfort, so she shoved his arms away. She huddled on the mat, dropping her head to her knees, and allowing the tears to fall unchecked.

Mateo tried to touch her again and she jerked back violently, yelling at him, "Leave me alone, don't touch me!"

Mateo didn't touch her. He watched as she continued to cry, wiping the tears on the hem of her shirt. Finally, as the tears slowed and her hiccupping gasps stopped, he attempted to offer an explanation.

"You must learn, mi amor," he said urgently.

"I'm not your love," she lashed out, her voice wobbly with tears. "If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done that to me. I'm going to be covered in bruises from head to foot. This isn't you teaching me self-defense, this is abuse."

He flinched when she said the word abuse, the look on his face suggesting she’d gutted him. Through their sparring session he had lost the emotionlessness that he'd been exhibiting before; he'd released some of the violent tension from within. Unfortunately, he'd chosen her as his punching bag.

"You have to understand, Raina, I – " he began, but she interrupted him.

"You're right, I don't understand!" she shouted at him, rubbing her shoulder. "You’re impossible to understand. Sometimes, you're so sweet to me, I can't imagine a life without you. But then you do things like this. I watched you kill men in cold blood in my apartment. I could justify it because you were saving my life, but I'm coming to realize, there are two sides to you. And I don't feel like I can deal with that. I can't deal with this again."

Raina tried to stand up, intent on storming back to the house and locking herself inside. She’d go find a guestroom to sleep in so he wouldn't know where to find her and pick her up again, but Mateo stopped her with a hand on her arm. He gripped her and forced her to sit back down. She landed on her butt with a thump and glared at him, sniffling back more tears. Was he going to force her to fight again? If that was his plan, then he may as well beat her up, because she was done pretending to defend herself.

"Listen to me, Raina," he began, his voice hard, taking on that tone that she knew meant she wouldn't have a choice. She bit her lips to keep herself from screaming at him again. Maybe if she let him get whatever this was out of his system, he let her go back inside. "I will admit, I shouldn't have come straight to you tonight after what I'd seen, but I had to make sure you were okay. I had to set eyes on you myself."

"I was perfectly okay, sound asleep in my own bed before you dragged me out and beat me up," she snapped scathingly.

Mateo grunted his annoyance but didn't contradict her. He continued, "As you know, I've had my work cut out for me during this takeover. I knew it wouldn't go smooth, though things have been going better than I expected. Sotza is well respected in this area, and as his right-hand man, that respect seems to extend to me. However, there is some resistance coming out of Mexico."

Raina knew that Mexico had been the point of contention for her mother when Vee was boss in Miami. Mexico was the reason that Sotza had come to Miami to end her reign and install his own regime in the area. Miami had gone through many bosses over the past several years, Mateo was meant to become a permanent fixture.

"I had a liaison here, a Mexican-American who acted as go-between for me and several of the cartels. For the most part, the cartels have fallen in line. They’re pleased that we intend to keep our trade routes intact, to allow the flow of goods to continue through our ports. But there is one, the cartel that Casey and Reyes were supposed to have crushed. Somehow, this cartel continues to have power, though the figurehead and his progeny are dead. They went after my middleman and his family. I knew the threat was coming, but I arrived too late to his house. It was a slaughter."

Raina's heart pounded in her chest. Sympathy, horror, terror. This was the shadowy mob life she feared, that she wanted no part of. "Who did they kill?" she asked tentatively.

He confirmed her fears. "My man was killed, his wife, his mother, their three kids. It was brutal. It was a message."

Raina felt sick. “My god, Mateo. I’m so sorry.” She understood what he was not saying. This family wasn’t just executed. If there was a cartel attempting to send a message, then they would have done it in the most gruesome way possible to ensure that the message was received.

Raina took a deep breath and reached out to touch Mateo. "You want me to be able to protect myself." Now she understood why he dragged her from her bed and out into the yard where he could repeatedly beat her. "You know this isn't the way to do it. This past week, the patience you showed me, I've learned so much. Tonight, I learned nothing, except that my boyfriend doesn't know how to properly deal with grief."

He lifted his head, guilt bright in his eyes. "I should've realized this was going to happen. I should've protected him and his family better."

She shook her head and rubbed her hand on his arm. "My understanding is that the mob rarely goes after family, right? You couldn't have known that they would target everyone under his roof. There's only so much protection you can offer a person."

Though her words were meant to be comforting, Mateo's gaze became sharp and fierce. He brought his hand down on top of hers and gripped it so tightly that she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

"Nothing can happen to you. I will wrap you in so many layers of protection, that this will not even be a possibility."

She reached up to touch his cheek, running her fingers down the rough whiskers. Two years ago, when she learned who her mother was, Raina had reconciled herself to the idea that she was essentially married to the mob. Maybe not literally, but through her family connections. And though she'd only had a vague idea of the dangers involved, she was a realist, she never once deluded herself into thinking she would be safe forever.

Instead of telling Mateo that he couldn't possibly protect her the way he wanted to, she agreed with him, she told him what he wanted to hear. "I trust you. I know that you'll never let anything touch me."

The moment was so intense, so fraught with emotion, that what happened next seemed inevitable. They reached for each other, his hands on her face, her hands on his face and they kissed. Raina didn't know who started the kiss and she didn't care. All she cared about was erasing the events of that evening, for both Mateo and herself.

The kiss was instantly explosive, igniting the smouldering chemistry that they'd been trying so hard to suppress. She didn’t know why Mateo was waiting for the wedding. Perhaps he was giving her time to get used to him, or maybe he was a traditionalist.

For Raina's part, she had absolutely no problem with consummation. She had a normal libido and a healthy sex drive, but there was something about sex with Mateo that made her pause. He was so serious, so intense, even when he was trying to protect and love her. The idea of sex with Mateo scared her. Both physically, because he was a big muscular guy who kept himself in peak condition at all times, as well as mentally. She knew, without a doubt, that once they had sex there would be no going back.

But right then, their bodies dripping in sweat from the exertion of their workout, their emotions high, neither of them cared. They kissed each other with such intensity that Mateo's tooth sank into her bottom lip, cutting it open. Neither stopped as the taste of blood filled their mouths. It should have been gross, but Raina felt turned on by it. His love, his possession, was so fierce that it was like he couldn't contain it, even when he wanted to. It was a heady thought, the idea that she had this much power over him.

He pushed her back onto the mat and they rolled onto the grass together, their mouths still fused. Mateo's hands began tugging at her clothes, pushing her shirt up over her breasts. She cried out into his mouth as soon as his calloused hand covered her breast, squeezing, lifting, testing. His thumb brushed roughly over her nipple, drawing another cry from her. It was pure ecstasy. She arched up into his hand, silently begging him for more.

And he gave her so much more. His other hand shoved impatiently between their bodies, beneath the band of her sweatpants and into her panties. She gasped breathlessly as his fingers attacked her clit, then down to her opening where he gathered the wetness from her, dragging it back to her clit, rubbing furiously.

She shrieked at the intensity, but he caught the sound in his mouth as he smothered her with another kiss. She thrashed underneath him as he touched her in a way that he hadn't done before. It was too rough, too hard. When she masturbated, she touched herself lightly, drawing her orgasm out and tipping over the edge into a sweet ecstasy. This was so much different. She had no control over this. He drove her higher, higher, higher, until she was crying, begging, screaming for release. She wanted the orgasm, but it almost hurt.

He continued to hold her down, his fingers rubbing her, inside, out, all over her pussy. It was like he was attacking her with his brand of ownership. He was claiming her pussy for himself and she was helpless to stop him. With a piercing scream, her head flung back into the grass, her hair a halo, she came so hard that she felt the spurt of fluid into her panties soaking his fingers.

Tears trickled from her eyes, down her cheeks and dripped onto the ground. Mateo kissed her softly, his lips now caressing hers, no teeth or tongue. Though she could feel the imprint of his steel hard cock against her thigh, he didn't do anything about it. He wasn't going to fuck her right there in the grass as she thought he would. As she’d been half hoping.

He’d wanted to touch her, to make her come, to show her who her body belonged to. And after the way he touched her, she couldn't deny it. She belonged to Mateo Gutierrez.

31

Raina woke late in the morning, her body protesting the aches from her late-night sparring session. She rolled out of bed with a groan and stood unmoving for a few seconds, taking stock.

It had been a strange night. She wasn't sure what freaked her out more, the one-sided sparring session or the massive orgasm that Mateo had given her. She blushed thinking about it. It was the first orgasm given to her by another person. She didn't know how to feel about it. Part of her wanted to hunt Mateo down and demand that he finish the job and fuck her already, but the rest of her wanted to hide from him and never have to look him in the face again.

She felt unequipped for these feelings. In some ways, she'd been forced to grow up rather quickly, her kidney disease destroying some of her carefree childhood. But that also meant she’d been extremely sheltered. Her experience with the opposite sex was limited.

As a teenager, she’d been interested in boys, but several years behind her classmates when it came to sex and relationships. As a result, she now felt like she was on shifting ground. She didn't know where to step, how to step, if she should take any steps or let Mateo do the work.

A subdued Raina showered and got dressed, readying herself for the day. She chose a white summery top with a pattern of red roses splashed across it and a pair of capri jeans. She slid her feet into a pair of red flats, brushed her hair and pinned it back behind her ears with clips. On the inside she might feel uncertain but on the outside she looked fabulous. She snatched up her glasses from the nightstand and headed down to grab some breakfast from the kitchen.

She wasn't expecting to find Mateo still in the house. He was usually gone by that time of morning on whatever business he had to do while taking over Miami. But when she arrived in the kitchen, he was sitting at the breakfast table, leaning back in his chair, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. His expression was dark and brooding and his frown only deepened when he caught sight of her.

Raina stopped in the doorway and stared at him. He was wearing a tailored suit, the dress shirt open at his tanned throat. He looked good.

She felt awkward. What did one say to the man who had essentially beat her up the night before and then gave her the best orgasm of her life? She blushed at the thought. Then she got angry. Fuck him for making her feel awkward.

"What are you doing here?" She didn't bother to take the edge out of her tone, she wanted him to know that she was still pissed. "Thought you'd be out breaking kneecaps or whatever it is gangsters do."

Mateo stared at her, not responding to her rudeness. Raina strode to the fridge and jerked it open taking the milk out and slamming it on the cupboard. She grabbed a bowl, a spoon and some cereal then poured herself a breakfast of Lucky Charms. She needed the sugary pick-me-up.

She eyed the chair opposite Mateo then turned on her heel and prepared to leave the kitchen. She would rather eat her breakfast in the big formal dining room than sit at the same table as Mateo right now.

"Sit your ass down." The growl came from right behind her and she jumped, spilling a couple drops of her milk. Mateo took her by the arm and pulled her toward the table, pulling a chair out and pushing her into it.

Raina's temper soared. "Excuse me? You are not the injured party here. I didn't drag you out of bed in the middle of the night and into a cold yard, then force you to fight for your life. I get to be angry, not you."

Mateo raised an eyebrow, giving her a look that suggested she had better stop speaking. "You do not get to be angry," he said calmly, with underlying steel to his voice. "Knowing how to defend yourself could save your life in the future."

"But that's not what you did last night." She picked up her spoon and attacked her cereal with a vengeance. "You took your own frustrations out on me. And that kind of behaviour isn’t acceptable, Mateo. Not unless you want me to disappear again."

Mateo slammed his fist down on the table hard enough to make her cereal bowl jump and a wave of milk come splashing out. She flicked her hand in annoyance where the cereal had spilled over, sending milk droplets flying in every direction.

"If you so much as even think about leaving this property without the proper permission and protection, then I will lock your ass up so tight that you’ll never see sunlight again."

She opened her mouth to argue with him, but the look on his face was so fierce that she decided to back down. For now.

"You will watch what you say to me. You will watch your step. And you will listen and obey every word I say. Do you understand?"

Raina's mouth fell open. She was used to Mateo being demanding, overbearing and controlling. But those behaviours were usually mitigated at least by a slight sense of humour, combined with his desire and care for her. She didn't know what to do with this Mateo. He was too serious and frightening.

He slammed his fist down again and repeated himself, his voice taking on a terrifying tone. "Do you understand?"

Tears filled Raina's eyes. Not tears of sadness or grief, but tears of anger. She wanted to fight back, to defend herself. She’d been raised to believe that she was equal to any other person around her, man, woman, alien, whatever. But in this situation, in this household, she was not equal. And the knowledge stung her to the core.

"I understand." Her voice dripped with ice and she stared at him, unwilling to drop her eyes. There was so much more she was tempted to say to him, but she held it in. This was not the time. He was too volatile.

Mateo stood and she thought he was going to leave the kitchen, to go about his day. But he came around to her side of the table and knelt in front of her. He was tall enough that even kneeling his head reached the same height as hers. He touched her face, running his thumb down her cheek and then dropping his hand to her shoulder where he squeezed gently. He ran his hand down her arm, then her leg down to her ankle. He did the same on the other side and she realized that he was checking her for injuries.

"Does anything hurt?" The gentleness of his hands and his question were incongruous with their previous conversation.

She wanted to shout at him, tell him that everything hurt, especially her heart. But again, she didn't. She held it in. Something was going on with Mateo, something separate from their relationship, but something that affected their relationship.

She shook her head. "Just a few bruises, nothing worse than what I've experienced in the past week of sparring."

Mateo nodded and stood. He put his hand on the top of her head and then ran his fingers down her hair, rubbing the fine strands between his fingertips. Then, without another word, he left the kitchen. She suspected he was going to leave the house for the day, as per his usual.

Raina finished what was left of her cereal and wiped the rest of it off the table with a damp cloth.

When she was done cleaning up, she left the kitchen to survey the different areas of the house that were under construction. To avoid disrupting the household too much, Daniela and Raina agreed to section the renovations. At the moment, Daniela and her team of carpenters, painters, electricians and plumbers were working on the second floor, making their way through the guest rooms.

Raina wasn't planning to do much to the guestrooms, just update some of the styles and colours and add a few modern touches here and there. Nothing major. As she surveyed each room, she was impressed to see how far the team had come. She was pleased with the progress.

A frown marred her features as she made her way down the long marble hallway. Where was Daniela? The other woman had said that she would be here today, matching paint samples and upholstery samples in the various rooms. Raina wanted to meet with her, see if they could come up with a few ideas for the master bedroom. Raina had pretty much given the other woman run of the house, except a few rooms.

Finally, Raina pushed open the last door that she had left to check on the second floor, Mateo's bedroom.

"What are you doing in here?" Raina asked sharply, finding Daniela crouched next to the desk in Mateo's room, one of the drawers open.

Ever the picture of sophisticated coolness, Daniela didn't jump at the sound of Raina's voice. She gracefully stood from her crouch and turned to face Raina. As always, her smile was professional, polite and distant. There was no warmth to this woman.

"I needed to get measurements in here, it's the only room we didn't discuss," Daniela said in her husky voice. She waved a hand behind her indicating the desk. "A vintage piece, very nice. Do you know where it came from?"

"No, I don’t." Raina stood next to the open door and looked pointedly out to the hallway. "I believe I mentioned that I would need to speak to Mateo before we proceeded with renovations in this room."

Daniela walked gracefully toward Raina, an expression of self-condemnation and guilt on her face. Raina called bullshit. Every expression this woman had was carefully arranged.

As Daniela went to slip by Raina, she said, "Forgive me. I was so eager to continue with the work that I completely forgot what you told me about this particular room. I’ll try harder to remember your instructions in the future."

Clever.

Daniela was placing herself firmly in the inferior position, the employee. She was doing and saying all the right things. Except for rifling through Mateo’s room. And Raina didn't believe the woman's excuse for one moment. Daniela had been in there looking for something.

As the two women walked down the hall side by side, Daniela casually asked, "Where did you meet your fiancé? You’re American, correct? And he’s from somewhere else?"

Raina glanced at Daniela, trying to determine if the other woman was attempting to get information from her or if she was genuinely curious. Raina told herself to stop looking for a conspiracy where there was none. Daniela's probably met a lot of different people in her job, and Raina had to admit that she and Mateo made an interesting couple.

"My parents introduced us." Raina attempted to keep the bitchiness she was feeling from her tone. "Mateo did some work with my stepfather. We met two years ago and then reconnected recently.”

"Oh, what a lovely story!" Daniela exclaimed. "I adore hearing about second chance love."

Now Raina knew for sure something fishy was going on with the other woman. Daniela looked and acted as though she was carved from an iceberg and now she was gushing about second chance love stories? Raina wasn't buying it.

"Sure," Raina said sarcastically. "We’re a match made in heaven. If you'll excuse me, I have some work to do in my office. When you get those samples ready for me, bring them down and I'll have a look."

Raina walked away from Daniela without another word. She didn't know what was going on, but she was going to get to the bottom of it.

32

Raina couldn't sleep that night. Was she being paranoid? Seeing conspiracies where there were none?

She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something off about Daniela. Right from the beginning Raina hadn't been able to warm up to the woman. Not that Raina had to be friends with every single person she met, but she had hoped to forge some kind of relationship with her interior designer.

Considering what a large job the mansion was and the huge potential for future work, she would have thought that Daniela would unbend enough to attempt being pleasant. Yet she wasn't. She was standoffish and frequently rude. If she hadn’t been doing such a good job, Raina probably would’ve fired her by now.

She tossed and turned for well over an hour before finally giving up on sleep. She shoved the hair off her face and sat up with a deep sigh. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed she squinted at the alarm clock but couldn't quite make out the fuzzy numbers. She grabbed her glasses and shoved them onto her nose, then looked at the clock again. 1:36 AM.

She chewed on her bottom lip trying to decide what to do. There was no help for it. She needed to talk to Mateo. She was relatively certain that he would want to hear this, given his obsession with Raina and security.

She pulled on a pair of fuzzy pink slippers and grabbed a short cotton robe to cover her pajama pants and cami top. She made her way into the lit hallway, squinting at the bright light and walked to the master bedroom.

She hesitated for a couple of seconds, lost her nerve, headed back to her room, changed her mind, and headed back to Mateo's room. She lifted her hand to knock, then dropped it. Then she got annoyed at herself, huffed, and banged on the door so loud that the sound reverberated down the corridor. She cringed at the noise.

She heard movement from the other side of the door and stood back waiting. Mateo jerked it open, surprising her as much as she surprised him. He was disheveled from head to foot. His hair looked like a windswept mess and he wore nothing but a pair of unzipped jeans with the belt and buckle hanging open. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of the generous treasure trail heading straight down to his groin. She looked away quickly but thought she caught a glimpse of the base of his penis. Her heart thumped and every single thought in her head took flight.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, searching the hallway behind her. He braced his arms on either side of the doorway to look around. That's when she caught sight of the gun in his hand. Her mouth went dry. Maybe this was a mistake.

"I… I…" she stuttered and then shook her head.

It was unlike her to have to search for words, but the sight of him was disconcerting. What had she been thinking? Going to Mateo's bedroom in the middle of the night. This could’ve waited until the morning. She started to tell him she’d talk to him later, but he reached out and took hold of her arm, pulling her into his room.

He closed the door behind them and then dropped her arm, taking a couple of steps back.

"Tell me."

Raina started to pace, wringing her hands as she spoke. "I don't know, maybe I shouldn't have come. It's just…"

Mateo took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "Raina, I trust you. If you came to me at this time of night, then you have a good reason. Try to relax and tell me."

His calm voice and the warm caress of his long fingers curving over her shoulders did help to relax her. She took a deep breath and nodded, grateful that he was being so understanding, especially after their confrontation in the kitchen.

"It's Daniela, I don't trust her. There's something wrong, but I can't put my finger on what it is."

"The designer?" he asked with a frown. Raina remembered that he hadn’t actually met Daniela yet. For some reason they were never in the mansion at the same time.

She nodded. "Yes, she's helping with the renovations. I don't know what it is about her, I don't even know if I have a legitimate complaint, but I don't trust her. I found her in your room yesterday, looking at your desk. I reminded her that she wasn't allowed in this room without permission, but she came up with a perfectly legitimate excuse. She said she forgot and she wanted to take measurements. If it had been any other room, I wouldn't have questioned her. But…"

"You don't trust her." Mateo crossed his arms over his chest, and dipped his head forward, as though thinking.

"I don't know why I don't trust her, it's not really anything she did, besides coming in your room when she shouldn't have. And anyone could've made that mistake. It was weeks ago that I told her to stay out of here. She could have genuinely forgotten."

Mateo lifted his head, his dark eyes piercing hers. "But you don't think she forgot."

"No, I don't believe it for a minute. She’s sharp, pays attention to every detail. She's really good at her job and she's hypervigilant, almost to a fault. I don't think she’d be one to forget the house rules."

Mateo nodded. "Good enough for me."

He strode over to the night table beside the bed and grabbed his phone. He hit one of the contacts and then put the phone on speaker. Angela answered with a groggy, “Hello?”

Mateo skipped the pleasantries. "Angela. Raina doesn't trust the decorator, Daniela…" He looked up at Raina with a raised eyebrow.

"Velasquez," Raina supplied Daniela's last name.

"Thinks she's up to something," Mateo continued. "Check her out. I want to know everything. Family, friends, connections, clients. I want to know where she's from, where she's going and how long she's been here. Don't leave a single stone unturned. Satisfy me that this woman is on the up and up. If you flag anything as problematic, come to me immediately."

"Of course, boss," Angela said in a clipped voice.

They hung up and Mateo set his phone back down.

"Thank you," Raina said quietly, fidgeting. Now that the drama was over, she was back to feeling awkward. She really wished he would finish zipping up his pants. Her eyes kept straying to where she was positive she could see a hint of man stem. "Thank you for believing me and doing something about it."

Mateo inclined his dark hair head. "At best, you’re wrong about this Velazquez woman and she's simply an interior designer. I would rather you come to me with your worries than ignore your instincts and get hurt. Thank you for trusting me enough to come to me with this.”

Raina's heart ached at his words. He could be so wonderful sometimes. So heartfelt, that she wanted to grab hold of him and never let go. But it was the other times, the terrifying Mateo times that she didn't know how to deal with.

"I should go back to my room," she said in a near whisper, backing slowly away from Mateo's bed, toward the door.

"Stay with me." His words halted her in her tracks.

Why did he want her to stay? Did he want sex? Did he want to talk to her about Daniela? Her heart thumped in both anticipation and fear, though her good sense told her she needed to leave the room and leave quickly, because the heat was beginning to ratchet up.

He took a step toward her and she retreated a step. He didn't reach for her as she half feared, but he held her still with nothing more than his voice. "If you stay, I promise to be a perfect gentleman. I won't demand anything of you, but that you sleep next to me where I can see you."

It said a lot that Raina was beyond tempted. She was slowly trying to feel this new relationship out, and she sensed the thinning of Mateo's patience over their days and weeks together. He wanted her to warm up to him faster. She knew that it was only a matter of time before he lost patience completely. But when he asked her like this, telling her that he would respect her boundaries, her heart melted. She couldn't protect herself from this side of Mateo.

"Why?" she whispered.

What would he gain by having her in his bed when he couldn't touch her? Wouldn't that be torture for both of them? Because truthfully, Raina wanted him as badly as he seemed to want her. She was just more cautious, less experienced.

Mateo stepped up to her as though approaching a wild animal. He tucked the hair behind her ear and then touched his finger to the edge of her glasses. There was a strange expression on his face. She realized it was tenderness, not something she'd seen from him before.

"I want to see what you look like when you sleep. I want to lay next to you, inhaling your scent. I want you to rest your head on my pillow, inhaling my scent in return. I want you to wake up in the morning knowing that you spent the night next to the man that will become your husband. I want you to get used to me."

Her mouth was dry and her hands were sweating. She didn't know what to do. Go to her own room and spend a restless night alone or give in to the undercurrents of dark desire that were permeating the air around them? Though he wasn’t asking for sex, sexual tension vibrated through both of them.

"Will you stay?" His voice was husky and his eyes smouldering.

"Yes."

33

The next morning, Raina ran into Mateo as she was coming down the stairs and he was coming in the front door. They both stopped to look at each other. Once again, Raina felt self-conscious. The look Mateo was giving her told her she shouldn't.

Their night together had been just as he described; he hadn't touched her other than to pull the blanket up to her neck, kiss her cheek and tell her good night. Then he rolled over to his side of the bed and fell asleep so fast Raina realized he must be completely exhausted.

When she woke up in the morning, she was alone, sprawled out in the warm bed beneath the soft sheets. She stretched an arm out to Mateo's side of the bed, but it was cool. He'd left a while ago. She'd made her way back to her room for a shower and a change.

Even though she felt awkward about seeing him again, she was also happy. She tucked her hair behind her ear and gave him a shy smile.

"You slept well?" He eyed her outfit of skinny jeans with a short purple T-shirt that bared part of her stomach.

"Very well, thank you," she answered politely.

They stood a few feet apart. She watched him warily as he continued to look at her. Had he come back to see her? She wasn't used to seeing him at any other time of day except for mealtimes. She thought that he was probably out negotiating his takeover. He usually returned to the mansion tired, but generally pleased about his success. He rarely spoke about the specifics of the takeover, except for the night he took her out into the yard to spar, but she sensed that things were going well for him. Which meant, she supposed, that things were going well for her too.

"I have news about your interior decorator. Come, let's go outside to talk." He jerked his head toward the back door and turned to walk away, expecting her to follow.

This was probably the reason he came back to the house, to update her on her hunch about Daniela Velazquez. Raina was dying to know what he'd found out, so she rushed after him as he strode toward the back of the house.

He called out to Lydia as they passed the kitchen, "Grab us a couple of lemonades and bring them out to the pool patio, will you?"

“Please and thank you," Raina was quick to add.

That was one of the differences between Raina and Mateo. Though he’d spent his childhood in poor conditions, he’d spent most of his adult years surrounded by servants. And though he was still an employee on Sotza's estate, he was high-ranking enough that he'd gotten used to the presence of paid staff. Raina, on the other hand, had grown up on a farm. She learned how to fend for herself; how to pour her own lemonade and use her manners if she had to ask for something. If she hadn't, her mother would've smacked her on the butt with a wooden spoon.

"Have a seat." Mateo waved his hand toward the patio table.

She sank into the seat and looked at him expectantly.

Mateo didn’t leave her in suspense. "We found the body of Daniela Velasquez."

“What?” Raina's mouth fell open in shock. Had she somehow managed to kill the interior decorator through her suspicions? Had Mateo murdered her, rather than looking into her background?

Before Raina could start demanding answers, Mateo continued, "The woman that you've been meeting with is not Daniela Velasquez. She's an imposter. From what Angela has managed to discover, Velasquez was killed weeks ago, after we moved in and started putting out feelers for an interior decorator. Whoever this mysterious woman is, she moved quickly. She knew exactly who we were. She found out what we needed and set herself up to be in a position to provide it."

Raina was stunned. She honestly didn't even know where to begin with this information. "But she was a really good interior decorator," Raina said, bewildered. "How does a person learn to become an interior decorator so quickly?"

She could tell by the look on Mateo's face that she'd amused him with her comment. She supposed it wasn't very badass of her to dwell on how good the imposter was at decorating. So she asked the next most important question. "If the woman I've been meeting with isn't the real Daniela Velasquez, then who is she?"

"And that's the million-dollar question." Mateo shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants, a serious look wrinkling his brow. "It’s not an easy process, getting into my inner circle. Whoever she is, she did her research, she worked quickly, and she disappeared just as quickly."

"Disappeared?" Raina asked.

Mateo nodded. "She must've realized that you were suspicious yesterday after you found her in my room. We haven't been able to track her down. I have a couple of men out trying to follow her movements, but if she's a professional, I doubt she'll be back. Not until she’s ready to show her hand."

A shiver ran through Raina. Ready for what? The possibilities were chilling. "What do you think she wants?"

Mateo accepted a frosted glass of lemonade from Lydia who walked out to them with a tray. Raina murmured her thanks, accepting a glass. She smiled her amusement when Lydia placed a bowl of grapes next to the drink. Lydia was forever trying to feed her healthy snacks, probably on Mateo’s orders.

When Lydia left, Mateo continued, "I don't want to speculate on the imposter’s intentions. First, we need to establish her identity before we find a motive behind her deception." Mateo walked over to Raina and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing and then running his hand through the loose hair at her ear. "The important thing is that you recognized her for what she was. She won't be bothering you again."

Mateo's words made her feel safer. She was comforted by his solid presence and his promise to protect her. She reached up, took hold of his hand and kissed the knuckles before letting go. She blushed at her own actions, though they were heartfelt.

"Thank you,” she said, smiling at him. "Thank you for taking me seriously on this and for acting so quickly. It means a lot to me."

His shrewd eyes stayed on her for a moment. "You know I would do anything for you."

"Even the things I don't want you to do." She quietly echoed the words he'd spoken to her weeks ago.

Mateo leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "Exactly." He left his empty glass on the table and strode back to the house.

Mateo and Raina spent the next week settling into a new normal. Raina hired a new interior decorator who came with a plethora of recommendations and awards. He also passed an extremely thorough background check and interrogation style interview with Danny, Angela and Mateo. Once Mateo was satisfied the new designer was on the up and up, Raina was back to renovation planning.

The biggest change in routine the past week had brought was Mateo's presence at her door every night at around 11 PM, asking her to join him in bed. He was always polite, almost distant, and he never touched Raina without her permission. She was lulled into a sense of security to the point that she willingly took his hand and followed him to his room, spending each night in bed beside him. The routine had become such a pleasant one that she would’ve been disappointed if he hadn't come for her.

Raina felt happy and ready to start planning her wedding. She was excited for the arrival of both of her mothers within the next few days. They would know what she should do and how she should act when it came to both the mafia and a big wedding.

Diane Duncan arrived first. She brought with her a giant ray of sunshine, homemade baking, Raina's favourite stuffed unicorn and a warm heartfelt hug. She gathered Raina in her arms and held her close. Raina melted into her mother, wrapping her arms around Diane's ample waist.

"You look so beautiful, Raina." Diane tipped Raina's chin up to look at her face. She clucked her tongue and ruffled Raina's hair. "You'll need a haircut before the wedding."

They toured the mansion arm in arm, Raina showing off her new home to her mother. Raina was particularly proud of the renovations and lingered in the rooms that had been under construction. She was proud to show her mother to a bedroom that Raina had a personal hand in decorating.

The two women spent most of the day talking and discussing wedding particulars. Diane was especially interested in the food and had ideas about catering. Diane was generally easy-going; she wasn't one to shove her ideas down another person's throat. That is, except when it came to the wedding; Raina had never seen her mother so pushy. It was almost amusing to watch Diane lay out all of her catering plans and show Raina a plethora of menus she gathered online from local Miami caterers.

Mateo joined the two women for supper and received a warm hug and kiss from his future mother-in-law. Raina was reminded that the two had been in cahoots together for the past few years. She wanted to be pissed off about the subterfuge, but she was happy to see that her mother and Mateo getting along. It was like they skipped the awkward in-law phase and jumped right into years long friendship. They had a pleasant meal together, one of the easiest that Raina’d had since arriving in the house. The tension that always simmered between Raina and Mateo eased off with the arrival of her mother.

Unfortunately, a different kind of tension vibrated through the mansion with the arrival of Elvira Sotza the next morning. Vee was the epitome of calm cool sophistication. She gathered her daughter against her and held her close. Both women were the same height and build and could have been sisters. Once Vee assured herself that Raina was being well taken care of, she turned to greet Diane, accepting a warm hug.

"Oh, it does my heart such good to see you two together," Diane said of Vee and Raina, brushing a tear from her cheek.

Raina felt truly blessed with having two such mothers. The two women were complete opposites, yet respectful and loving of each other. There was no jealousy, no competition for Raina's attention.

To Raina's disappointment, Vee wanted little to do with the wedding. She shrugged it off as not her thing but listened carefully to whatever plans the other two made. Occasionally she would drop a comment, but mostly kept her thoughts to herself on Raina's upcoming nuptials. The only time she offered her two cents was when it came to Miami's local businesses. Vee knew where to find the best of everything and wasn't afraid to interrupt and tell Raina and Diane.

The one thing that Vee did want to discuss at length was Raina's contact with the imposter interior designer. She seemed deeply concerned by Raina's description of events.

"How old would you say she is?"

Raina shrugged. "Hard to tell. Definitely older than me, maybe around your age? But not older."

"Hmmm, interesting." Vee lapsed into thoughtful silence, then asked, "You say she's Latina?"

Again, Raina shrugged. "I assume so. She was definitely posing as Latina when she stole Daniela Velasquez's identity. But who knows if she actually is."

Diane shook her head. "It gives me the shivers to think that you were in such close contact with that woman. She could’ve done anything to you and no one would've stopped her."

Raina's smiled affectionately. "I can take care of myself, mom. And there are usually bodyguards close by, even in the house. It would've taken real effort for her to harm me here."

"Well, that's a relief," Diana said, hand over her heart.

"I don't like it." Vee frowned and reached for her water, taking a long drink. “This isn’t over, whatever it is.”

34

"You," Vee snapped, striding purposefully towards her prey, one of the mansion security personnel.

Vee was pleasantly surprised when Angela turned around to face her. A wide grin split Angela's face as she was quick to greet her former employer. "Señora Sotza, awesome to see you again!"

The two women hugged. "I suppose I should’ve realized that you would be here with Mateo."

Angela nodded. "He prefers to have his own team around him during the takeover.”

"I was sad to see you and Thomas leave, but you’re right. Mateo works best when he’s with his team. That is one thing I'll give him; he values those that are loyal to him. And you, my dear Angela, have always been loyal, whether he deserves it or not."

Angela shrugged. "Mateo is an easy person to give loyalty to. He’s loyal to a fault himself."

"Yes," Vee drawled. "Loyal to a fault. It’s difficult to earn that man's loyalty, but I see that those of you that have it will have it forever. It’s why I haven’t objected more stringently to this marriage between him and my daughter. I know that he’ll protect her with his life."

Angela reached out to touch Vee's arm. "He’s loyal to you as well," she said earnestly.

Vee smiled and waved a hand dismissively. "He’s loyal to my husband, which means his loyalty automatically extends to me. He’s never warmed up to me as a person."

Angela watched her with a shrewd expression. "I don't know why it bothers you, it's not like you've ever attempted to win him over."

Vee laughed. "You’ve never been one to sugarcoat things."

Angela shrugged. "What's the point in sugarcoating. The truth will come out anyway."

“Regardless, I don’t think Mateo and I will become besties any time soon. Friendly maybe, but not more.”

Vee had earned Mateo’s ire by helping her daughter leave Venezuela after he made his intentions clear. He believed that Vee’s actions constituted a betrayal to the Sotza cartel. Luckily, Sotza had seen it otherwise and hadn't punished his wife. Vee didn't think that she and Mateo would ever be close, but she respected him and for her daughter’s sake she would try to be civil.

"Were you looking for something?" Angela asked, prodding Vee on her reason for seeking out the mansion security.

"Yes, I'd like to look at some security footage if you have it handy." Vee’s voice was clipped and cool, back to business.

Angela hesitated and then nodded. "I don't think it should be a problem."

Vee understood Angela's dilemma. Angela and Vee had always gotten along well, two powerful women in a male-dominated cartel. Both had attitude in spades and could take care of themselves. Over the years of Vee’s marriage, the two women had developed a friendship. They were stronger and more powerful together than apart.

Vee followed Angela down the hallway, her 4-inch black Louis Vuitton heels tapping against the marble as she walked. Angela showed her to a back room that had been turned into a security office. She ushered Vee inside and waved her toward a chair then took the other chair behind the desk, sinking down and tapping the keyboard to wake up the monitor.

Vee looked at Angela shrewdly. "I think Miami suits you."

Angela’s eyes narrowed in thought. "I've always enjoyed America. There's a certain kind of… freedom… that I don't necessarily experience in Venezuela. More opportunity maybe." She finished with a shrug.

"I know what you mean," Vee assured her. "Misogyny runs aplenty in the world of organized crime. Here, you’re far more likely to rise up the ranks than you would in a place like Venezuela. Though Sotza appreciates hard work, whether that work is coming from a man or a woman, his organization isn’t that far out of the dark ages. Regardless, enjoy your time here. I'm sure you can make it permanent if that’s what you want."

Angela treated Vee to a half smile and then focused her attention on the computer in front of her. She turned the monitor so that they could both see it. "What are we looking for?"

"The interior designer. I want to know what she looks like."

Angela nodded sharply and said, her voice hard, "I never trusted her. Worst customer service I've ever seen. She was rude to everyone, including your daughter. It was a miracle Raina didn't fire her."

Vee chuckled. "Raina sees the best in everyone."

"Okay, so the moment Mateo realized Daniela wasn’t on the up and up, he had us pouring through this footage. I can tell you now, she's clever. Never once showed her face." Angela quickly found the file on the desktop, opened it and played the first video.

Vee watched as a tall slender dark-haired woman wearing a wide-brimmed hat walked past the front entrance camera at a fast clip. She brought her hand up to her face as though to brush hair out of her eyes. The move obscured her features.

"Clever indeed," Vee said darkly.

"She does that every single time she walks past a camera, whether it's the camera at the front entrance, the back entrance, or the offices, where we also had cameras installed. She knows exactly what she's doing."

Vee frowned thoughtfully. "But what exactly was she doing? And did she accomplish what she set out to do? I assume she's been in the wind since suspicions were raised?"

"Si, yes," Angela nodded, using both English and Spanish as she spoke rapidly. "Raina was careful when speaking to Daniela, but it was clear that she was suspicious. And the woman is skittish. Probably from the moment she was caught in Mateo's bedroom, she decided her time here was done. As for her intentions? We don't know. We need to determine her identity first."

"Replay the footage for me, different angles please." Vee leaned in closer to the monitor and watched as Daniela walked past the camera over and over and over.

There was a familiarity about her. The way she walked, elegant but purposeful. The way she looked over her shoulder and surveyed her surroundings. The woman's posture. Her clothes, her shoes, her jewelry. Everything seemed to be carefully coordinated. The woman was almost militaristic with a side of elegance. Raina would bet the Venezuelan compound that she knew this woman personally. But how? And when?

"Thank you for showing me this. If you get in trouble with Mateo, let me know. I’ll set him straight.”

Angela shook her head and gave Vee a reassuring smile. "You were kind to me in Venezuela. You showed me how powerful a woman could become. You showed me that a woman could embrace her femininity and still be a total badass. I've always looked up to you and I don't agree with the way Mateo treats you. But that’s between you and him. As far as I'm concerned, you and I are friends."

Vee smiled a heartfelt genuine smile. "Thank you. I will treasure our friendship. If you’re ever in need of help, you come to me."

35

It was the night before Vee’s and Diane's departure. They had been in Miami for four days helping Raina with her wedding plans. Diane was eager to get back to Joe and the farm. She talked about helping with the seeding and doing some gardening before summer arrived.

Vee, on the other hand, didn’t seem eager to leave at all. "I'm not comfortable leaving Miami before you hunt down the imposter." She directed her comment to Mateo who was sitting at the head of the table, presiding over their dinner meal.

"Daniela Velasquez is not your problem," he said dismissively, forking a bite of roasted chicken and vegetables into his mouth.

"She preyed on Raina and anything that has to do with my daughter is, in fact, my problem," Vee said sharply, narrowing her eyes at Mateo in a glare.

"Can we not do this?" Raina huffed from her seat on Mateo’s right-hand side. She was sitting across from Vee, with Diane on her left side.

Vee and Mateo had been arguing all week and it was getting on Raina's last nerve. She understood their hostility, but she didn't condone it. Both of them were grown-ups, both of them had been bosses in the Miami underground, and both loved Sotza and Raina. That should be plenty enough in common for them to bury the hatchet. But rather than burying it, that they'd spent the entire week swinging it at each other, making nasty comments and undermining the others authority.

Raina turned her ire on her mother. "While I appreciate your concern, I am capable of taking care of myself." When Vee open her mouth to speak, Raina interrupted, "And I trust my future husband to keep me safe. He cared for your husband for over two decades; he's proved himself. You need to let this go and trust us to take care of it." Then Raina turned her gaze toward Mateo. "And you need to start getting along with my mother. I intend to have her here as often as I can get her. Deal with whatever grudge you have against her and then let it go. For my sake."

The mighty Mateo actually flinched at her last sentence, more than likely because he would do anything for Raina's sake, including treating her mother with respect. He set his fork and knife down on his plate and lifted his napkin to his lips before setting it on the table.

He turned to face Vee, his expression one of stiff resignation. "Forgive me, you will always be welcome in our home."

It became clear that Vee was struggling with what she would say next. Diane hid a smirk in her napkin and winked at Raina, while Raina covered a laugh with a cough. Vee was not one to let old grudges go. If a person was going to hate Vee, she was going to hate them back ten times worse. But ultimately, she knew that it was in her daughter's best interest to have Vee get along with her future son-in-law.

Finally, after enough time had passed that even Mateo was amused, Vee managed to say stiffly, "You’re forgiven. And, of course, you must forgive me for any harm I may have caused you." She seemed to chew on the inside of her cheek before bursting out with, "Except for helping Raina escape. I don't regret that."

Before Mateo could get angry, both Raina and Diane burst out laughing. Diane put her hand on top of Raina's and squeezed, then directed her comment to Mateo, "I think that that's as good as it's going to get. Consider yourselves no longer at war."

"Indeed," Mateo drawled, his dark eyes still lingering on Vee with speculation. He directed his next comment toward her. "I hope that you know we’re doing everything we can to track down the imposter. You’ll receive any and all information regarding this matter. However, Sotza wants you back in Venezuela, and it’s my duty to obey his wishes."

Vee grumbled something about how Mateo was no longer working for Sotza therefore he didn't owe the man anything, but no one paid much attention to her. It was obvious that it was going to take her longer to let go of their little war.

Later, in Mateo's bedroom, as Raina and Mateo were getting ready for bed, Raina turned to him. "Thank you for what you said to my mother at the dinner table."

"Diane is extremely easy to get along with. It will always be my pleasure to host her." He turned his back on Raina and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on a nearby chair. She held her breath as muscles rippled across his back, looking extra fine in the lamplight.

"You know that's not the mother I'm talking about," she said dryly. While his back was turned, she quickly stripped out of her clothing and pulled on a pair of sleep shorts and a cami top.

She continued to watch him as he unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down his legs, bearing the nicest male ass she'd ever seen. Granted, she hadn't come in contact with very many male asses, but she was positive that those perfectly curved globes were highly unusual. Over the course of the past week, they had gradually gotten used to each other's presence in the bedroom. It had been more of a learning curve for Raina who had never shared her space before. Even in university, she’d used some of her forgery money to upgrade to a single bed suite.

Mateo eased into their new living situation as though nothing had changed. As though there had always been a space for Raina right next to him, waiting for her to fill it.

"You were right." He turned to Raina, giving her a piercing look that melted her heart and her panties. His serious mob boss look, but also sexy as hell. "Allies are stronger when united. Our marriage will create an even stronger alliance between the east coast hub and South America. It would be stupid of me to continue arguing with someone in Vee's position."

Raina tried desperately not to drop her eyes. She didn't need to glance at his penis. She really didn't. She dropped her eyes. Every thought in her head fled. For the most part Mateo's body was enveloped in shadows, but she could see enough to see a very large, very erect, very veined cock. He flipped back the covers on the bed, and slid underneath.

"I… I…" Raina stammered and blinked and then shook her head. Finally, she remembered what she wanted to yell at him about. "Our marriage is not about an alliance. If that's all you want from me, you can go find yourself another mob princess sacrifice."

Mateo flipped the blankets back, slid out of bed with the ease of a jungle cat and strode toward her. Raina's eyes flared wide and she took a couple of quick steps back, but she wasn't fast enough, he was on top of her in seconds. He stopped her, his hands on her arms, his dark angry eyes glaring down at her. The heat from his big body enveloped her in a warm hug.

"Our marriage will forge a strong alliance. This is a fact." His voice was hard, matching his stance and the angry energy coming from him. He meant every word. He wanted her to know exactly where she stood with him. “But you are much more to me than an alliance. If you had been born in a back alley on a distant continent, I still would have found you, and I still would have loved you. You are my queen, nothing less and nothing more."

Raina stared up at him, her heart hammering so hard that it felt like it would burst from her chest. Her skin felt prickly, like it belonged to someone else. The moment, the man, everything about the two of them was so significant that it felt like fate. Just as Mateo suggested. Maybe they were destined to be together, no matter who they were or where they came from.

Mateo slid his hand down her arm until he was clasping her hand. He tugged her toward the bed. "Come lay down with me, I want to read."

They snuggled under the covers together, Mateo's arm around Raina, her head on his chest. Together, they read his newest paperback romance, Rosemary Rogers’ Sweet Savage Love, each waiting for the other to finish before Mateo turned the pages.

36

The next day, after spending most of the morning working on a new commission for papers for an American diplomat whose lover was a foreign national spy, Raina decided to go for a relaxing swim. Between hosting both of her mothers and engaging in a weird mating dance with Mateo, Raina was ready for some down time.

She loved Vee and Diane, but both women, each in their own way, were exhausting. All Diane had wanted to do was talk wedding, wedding, wedding. Raina was not a wedding person. Though her own wedding engaged her more than other people's, she still wasn't willing to put in a lot of effort. Raina was a hardcore introvert, she had little desire to be around crowds of people that she barely knew, especially as the center of attention.

Vee had been exhausting in a different way. Vee was born and bred to the mafia, which created a kind of edge. She expected the worst and she was cynical, almost to a fault. She was always looking for conspiracies and angles.

Raina admired her birth mother, and in some ways, they were very much alike. Both mother and daughter were shrewd, sharp and intelligent. They also had big hearts. It was a strange combination that was likely what got both women into trouble time and time again. They were sneaky, worked on the wrong side of the law, but they were also loyal and compassionate.

That’s where the similarities ended. Vee’s experiences had made her cynical and distrusting. She was suspicious of most everyone, especially men and she didn't keep her thoughts to herself. Sometimes Raina thought that when Vee looked at Mateo, she was seeing her first husband, Tony Montana. The man who had beaten, degraded, and nearly killed her.

Raina decided she wanted a swim and headed to her room to change. Ten minutes later, she emerged wearing a white bathing suit with a gold clasp between the breasts and one on each hip, a light blue bathing suit robe and flip-flops. She made her way back through the mansion, admiring some of the changes along the way. It was starting to feel like home.

After finding out about Daniela, Raina had re-renovated many of the styles that Daniela had chosen. Raina's new interior designer was on board with this, even if he found it strange that they were repainting freshly painted rooms. He favoured a bolder style over the modern whites and creams that Daniela had been choosing for Raina. Raina found that she enjoyed some of the brighter accents more than she would have thought.

At the pool, she dropped her robe and tossed it carelessly across a lounge chair. She kicked off her sandals, stepped up to the edge of the pool and dove into the clear blue water. The pool was heated so the water temperature was perfect; not too hot, not too cold. Raina powered through twenty laps, counting them in her head as she touched the edge of the pool. Each lap helped to ease some of the tension from her body. Her mothers were gone and the imposter interior designer was no longer in the mansion. Her forgery work was taking off and things with Mateo were going well. Raina had nothing to worry about.

After finishing her laps, Raina rolled over onto her back and floated, staring up at the clear blue sky dotted with fluffy, cotton ball clouds.

Because her ears were half underwater, she didn't hear Mateo approach and didn't know how long he'd been standing watching her before she spotted him. She rolled her head to the side and saw his big body blotting out the sun. She swam lazily over to him a happy smile on her face. He watched her, the gleam of a predator in his eyes.

"You're home early," she said huskily as she approached the edge of the pool where he was standing. "Break your quota of kneecaps for the day, gangster?"

He flashed her a quick grin, unable to help himself. Raina noticed that Mateo and most of the criminal type guys she'd been around rarely smiled. As though their go-to expression was deadly, serious, frozen in stone. Although Mateo seemed to have nailed the expression, he still showed his softer side once in a while.

"Something like that," he said, crouching next to the edge of the pool.

Raina had an immature impulse to yank him into the water, expensive suit and all. She was relatively certain he wouldn't get overly angry with her and might even find humour in the situation. But she reined in the urge. Maybe one day she’d give it a try.

He ran his finger down her cheek and tilted her chin. He lazily scanned her features and then dipped his gaze to her small breasts where they were tightly encased in the low-cut bathing suit. "Wanted to see you."

Raina grinned up at him. "Yeah? Why?"

"Want to show you something." He reached down for her, making it obvious that he was going to pull her out of the pool.

Raina clutched the sleeves of his suit jacket as he gripped her underneath her arms and pulled her straight up from the pool, going from his crouch to standing position and setting her on her feet in front of him. Water poured off her, wetting the front of his suit and shoes. Maybe she should've pulled him into the pool; apparently he didn’t mind getting wet.

"What do you want to show me?" she asked with a lift of her brow. "New puppy? Diamonds? The head of imposter Daniela on a platter?"

She almost regretted her last sentence when darkness replaced his pleasant expression. He shook his head. "We haven't been able to locate her yet."

The ‘yet’ in that sentence was significant. Raina had no doubt that he meant it. It wasn't a matter of if they found Daniela, it was a matter of when. Raina hoped the other woman had a damn good excuse for her subterfuge, because if she didn't, her head really would go on a platter.

"Follow me," he said, taking her hand. He allowed her to pull on her robe and flip-flops before leading her away from the pool.

"Where are we going?" she asked curiously, shivering when he ran his thumb down the inside of her hand, subconsciously rubbing her as they walked. She loved the feel of his hands on her.

"To the bunker." His tone was strange; dark but excited.

Of all the places he might want to take her, she definitely wasn't expecting him to say the bunker. "Why do you want to take me down there? You demanded I never set foot in there again without your permission."

"Consider this my permission."

Raina frowned as they rounded the pool house, walking away from where she knew the entrance to the bunker lay. "This isn't the right way."

He inclined his head toward her and said mysteriously, "You aren't the only one who's been renovating this place."

Raina halted in her tracks and gasped in surprise as she was confronted with a concrete wall with a door in it in the middle of her lawn. Where had this come from?

Mateo answered her silent question. "It was built last week, while you were touring bakeries and decoration shops with your mothers."

"Yeah, but you think I would've noticed it back here anyway," she said faintly as he pulled her toward a door with a panel in the side.

He punched in a ten-digit long code that Raina immediately memorized. He didn't bother to hide it from her, so she figured he either didn't think she had the capacity to remember a code that long or he wasn't concerned that she could now enter this space.

"I had the building created to certain specifications. The way the land back here is graded, sloping away from the house, made for a perfect location for an underground building. The door is the only partly visible; the rest is under the estate."

As they made their way into the building, which was noticeably much cooler than the air outside, Raina wrapped her robe tighter around herself. Mateo walked at a fast clip, his hand tight enough on her arm that she didn't have a chance to stop and look around. Odd, considering he wanted to show her this building.

As they passed door after door, it started to become clear to Raina what the building might be used for. In Venezuela, on Sotza's estate, similar buildings existed. Raina hadn't been allowed inside them, but the staff gossiped enough that it hadn't taken her long to figure out what they were for.

"A prison." She looked at Mateo as if asking him to negate her words. He remained silent.

"You built a prison in our home?" she demanded incredulously.

She was too surprised to feel angry yet. But she knew the rage would come once the full implications of this building sank in. What it would be used for while she lived in the house only a few yards away.

"This is our backyard, not our home." Mateo’s voice took on a growly quality.

Raina didn't know why he was getting annoyed, he had to know that she wouldn't approve of this addition to the mansion.

"Don't you use semantics with me," she snapped. "This is completely unacceptable. You didn't even talk to me about it."

Mateo stopped in front of another door with another panel. He punched another, separate, ten-digit code. Raina filed this one away too. This door would face the house, and when Mateo opened it Raina was able to see a set of stairs the extended into an even deeper subbasement.

Mateo slid his hand up her arm to grip her bicep. He pulled her down the stairs with him, as though he thought she might try to get away. As angry as she was, Raina was also curious. If he'd managed to build an entire warehouse on their back lawn, what had he done to the original bunker?

Mateo didn't say another word until they completed their descent where the air in the bunker became cooler again. Raina shivered in the darkness. Mateo flipped on a light switch without breaking stride and continued down the path that Raina was now familiar with. She glanced up, as if expecting to see the hole in the floor of the pool house, but the ceiling was smooth and the surrounding area smelled like paint.

She held her breath as they entered the bunker room that had once contained the corpse of Casey's bodyguard.

Raina was surprised to find the room completely renovated. There was now a wall blocking off the room. In the wall was a door with a barred window.

Mateo moved to the door and punched in a third code. Raina heard the click of a lock unlatching.

"Oh my God," she murmured.

It was a bedroom. A woman's bedroom. Well, maybe not, but definitely feminine touches, as though a woman were supposed to find the room comfortable. Which of course, any sane woman wouldn't.

There was a large queen-size bed dominating the middle. A wooden dresser, a mirror, a bookshelf, two nightstands and a mini fridge. On the floor was a huge Oriental rug, a bright splash of colour meant to make the room look homey. There was a door off to the side that Raina would bet led to a bathroom. Whoever was meant to stay in here wasn't meant to stay in discomfort.

Raina turned on Mateo, her eyes narrowed, her fists on her hips. "Who the fuck is this room for?"

Mateo studied her expression. "For you."

A wave of despair swept over Raina as she realized she was going to have to go on the run again. “Not a fucking chance.”

37

"You’re mistaken, Raina," he said calmly, watching her expression carefully trying to determine her thoughts.

Raina was nearly vibrating with fury. "I'm wrong in thinking that you intend this room for me?"

He shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. "Yes, of course this room is for you. But it's not a prison."

Raina pointed at the bars on the window, her hand shaking. "Prison."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "If it becomes a prison then it's a prison of your own making."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?” she snapped, hands on her hips.

He took a step toward her, close enough that she could smell the subtle hint of his spicy aftershave. He was so breathtakingly handsome it fucked with her nerves. Her libido wanted to stand up and take notice of him even when the logical part of her brain wanted to stab him in the eye with the nearest pointy object.

"It means," he said, his tone dripping with ice as his eyes became glacial, "that if you ever try to leave here, leave me, this will become your prison. When I had it built, its intended use was as a bolthole in case anything happens at the mansion. But if you insist on taking this attitude, it can become a more permanent cage."

"Don't you threaten me, asshole!" she snarled. "I'm going back to the house to think long and hard about this marriage."

She whirled around and headed for the door, but she barely managed two steps before he was gripping her and swinging her back around to face him. Her heart thundered as she realized she must've gone too far. The look on his face was utterly terrifying, as though he was rapidly losing control. His eyes had gone from ice to fire, their dark depths snapping with emotion.

“Don’t ever threaten me, Raina.”

His head descended to hers in an angry kiss. Raina tried to break away but his grip became punishing. In contrast to his brutal hold, his lips took her on a familiar dance, teasing, coaxing, looking for a response. She tried to resist, but her body was so in tune with his that her response came automatically. Her lips softened and she opened her mouth, giving him access. Then she was kissing him back, her anger meeting his in a heated exchange.

After a minute, he lifted his head, angrily staring down at her. They were both breathless from the intensity of their angry kiss.

"It's time you understand a few things about our relationship." His voice was a husky growl and she could feel his cock, steel-like within his pants, pressing against her bare stomach. "I’ve given you more leeway than I have given anyone in my life. You are under the mistaken impression that we are equals and I am no longer willing to allow you to live under that delusion. We are not equal. We will never be equal. I am the boss here. I rule over this city, this house and the people within it. I rule over you. If I tell you to get your ass in this room, you will do it without hesitation."

Pain shattered her hopes as his words sank in. For months, he allowed her to believe that she would have the freedom she craved if she stayed with him. Now, he was essentially telling her that she had no autonomy whatsoever.

The realization cut deep.

Raina blinked back tears and tilted her chin. "You’ll have to keep me locked in here until the end of time if you intend to stop me from leaving. Because as of right now, there's no chance I'm going to stay here and marry someone like you."

His hands tightened until she cried out in pain and jerked in his hold. Instead of releasing her though he slammed her up against his chest and lifted her until her feet left the ground. Raina was barely 5’2” and Mateo was easily a foot taller than her. She clutched at his suit for support.

"We are as good as married already. You will never be allowed to leave." He reiterated, his voice taking on a mean tone.

She snapped her hand up between them and slammed her cupped hand into his ear, boxing him. He dropped her but didn't let go of her arm. He reached up to rub his ear but didn't react otherwise.

"Fuck that, we aren't married, and at this rate, we never will be."

"As far as I'm concerned, little girl, the only thing left to do is consummate this relationship."

Raina's eyes flicked to the bed. She didn't know if he planned this, but she knew exactly where things were heading, and she didn’t think it was a good idea.

"Don't you dare touch me," she hissed.

He swung her toward the bed until her knees hit the edge of the mattress.

Mateo bent over her, his broad form blotting out the light above his head. "You belong to me. I negotiated for you and in my world, the promise of marriage is as good as the marriage itself. I can do whatever I want to you."

With every word he spoke he damaged their bond, slowly built up over weeks of getting to know each other. A few hours ago, she might have admitted to actually falling for this man. But now? Now, she couldn't imagine spending another minute with him let alone a lifetime.

"If you touch me, right here, right now, I will never stop trying to leave."

His hand swung around so sharply that she didn't have time to get out of the way. She closed her eyes and flinched, but the blow didn't land. She opened her eyes to stare at him and realized that he stopped himself. The fact that he'd intended to hit her was enough to shatter the last of her feelings for him. He didn't care. If he actually loved her, he would do anything to protect her, even from himself.

"You've made a big mistake." Her words were bitter, spoken from a broken heart.

"Then I have nothing to lose," he said coldly.

Before she could attempt another run on the door, he shoved her backwards onto the bed. She landed on her elbows and bounced on the mattress. She tried to roll away, but he dropped down on top of her, gripping her face and kissing her again, another brutal kiss. She automatically reached up to shove him away, but he slapped her hands. As she was drawn further into the kiss, she groaned and grabbed his head, opening her mouth and kissing him back.

Sensations flooded through her mixing with her anger. Her body screamed for his while her mind screamed at her to run. The combination was heady, driving her to arch her body up against him, smashing her breasts into his chest. He deepened the kiss, his teeth catching her lips, his tongue shoving into the back of her throat, choking her. She gripped the back of his neck to keep him from going anywhere.

His hands were hard and punishing as he tore at her robe, yanking it from her body and tossing it away. He didn't bother with her bikini top but yanked the bottoms down her body. Panic beat at her mind as she realized this was really happening. Mateo was going to have sex with her. No one had ever seen her like this, naked and exposed. She broke the kiss and tried to cover herself, placing both hands over top of her pussy.

“We have to stop.” Her voice was breathless, but high with worry.

Mateo shoved her hands away and pinned her to the bed, his knee between her legs. He was allowing rage and lust to cloud his judgement. This violence was the product of Mateo's upbringing and lifestyle. This was the fundamental difference between the two of them. Mateo could control the rage if he wanted, but it was always simmering below the surface, he needed it to stay alive. But Raina had been brought up with love and compassion. Sure she got angry, but her base emotion was one of happiness.

Though hormones raged through her, begging her to pull him down for another kiss, she tried one last time to use logic. “You don’t want to do this, Mateo.”

His eyes held hers with a dark promise. “I have wanted to do this from the day I met you. Should’ve done it the day I met you. You would’ve had a ring on your finger and no reason to put your life at risk in Italy.”

“It’s always about my safety!” she yelled at him. “You need to get a life and stop controlling mine.”

“Not going to happen,” he growled, yanking his jacket off and throwing it to the floor.

While his hands were busy, she reared up and tried to roll off the other side of the bed. He yanked her back and attempted to grab both of her wrists in one hand. She wiggled one out and hit him on the side of his head, her nails raking down his cheek.

"Fuck!" he snarled and gripped both of her wrists so hard she thought they might break.

"Fuck you too!" she screamed up at him.

He dropped his head again and she flinched, believing he was about to take her mouth in another bruising kiss. He didn’t, he dropped his mouth to her breast instead, sucking it into his mouth through the fabric of her bikini top. Without lifting his head, he tugged her top beneath her breasts and teased her nipples with his tongue and teeth. Sensations flooded through her until she was gasping and dizzy.

He released her hands to tear at his clothes. She heard the sound of cloth ripping as he wrenched his shirt off. She clutched his shoulders, her body shaking beneath his. He reached between them and she heard the distinctive sound of a zipper. Seconds later he was fumbling between her legs, thrusting them wider and guiding his cock toward her entrance.

“I’m not ready!” she gasped, fear zinging through her.

He either didn’t hear or he ignored her. He gripped her bare leg and dragged it up the outside of his thigh. Time seemed to stand still as she heard and felt everything in slow motion. Her leg against the roughness of his pants, his lips buried in her neck, biting and sucking at her pulse beat. The steel of his cock against her soft inner thigh.

It felt like all the air was being sucked out of the room as he pushed inside her. She tried to gasp but the air strangled in her throat and she choked instead, lifting her head off the bed and then slamming it back down. Pain sliced through her. A pain she'd never experienced before, as unused muscles stretched and tore to accommodate him.

"So fucking tight," he growled dipping his head toward her.

Raina turned her head to the side and sank her teeth into his ear, biting down until he grunted in pain. He gripped her jaw between his thumb and forefinger, applying pressure until she was forced to open her mouth. He wasn't even remotely gentle and by the time she let go of him her jaw felt bruised. Using one hand he pushed her face to the side and held her head down with his fingers spread over top of her. She couldn't move her head; she couldn't bite him. She could only grit her teeth and take the pain of his body slamming into hers.

She assumed he would finish quickly, within a few minutes at the most. But he didn't. He kept moving inside her, kept holding her down with his brutal strength. Even while something inside her died at his ruthless possession, a spark came to life. A flare of pleasure that swept over her, despite the pain.

They still had weeks, months and years of history. History where she'd always been attracted to him, always wanted him. And though she didn't want to want him now, her body was crying out for his.

Wetness was gathering between her thighs as he established a rhythm that her body couldn’t resist. Her heart hammered in her chest as instinct took over, reaching for the pleasure he was offering.

Tears leaked from her eyes, touching his fingertips where his hand was spread across the side of her face. They trickled down her cheeks, off her nose and onto the mattress. She closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, then allowed her body to relax.

As if sensing her capitulation, Mateo relaxed his grip on her and began to touch her softly, running his fingers down her cheek, her neck and the swell of her breasts. Raina kept her eyes closed, but she concentrated on the places that he touched, reaching mentally for every bit of pleasure he was giving her. She could hate him after, but for now, she was going to take this moment and hold it close. Her first time with a man.

Raina's breathing sped up and her face became flushed with excitement. She bit her lip to hold in a moan, but he must've heard anyway. He took her jaw his hand and she flinched, but all he did was gently roll her head up until she was facing him.

He leaned down and took her lips with his, leading her into a familiar exploration. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and returned his kiss, thrusting her tongue aggressively against his, the sparks igniting into a full frenzy as she was overwhelmed by the pleasure in her mouth and her pussy. Butterflies sang through her entire body. She couldn’t resist Mateo; she didn’t want to anymore.

"I need you to come for me,"

"Fuck… you." Her words were breathless and angry, at odds with the thrust of her hips against his and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Her body wanted what he wanted, it wanted to come.

"I will fuck you," he growled, using her words against her. "I will fuck you every day from here until one of us dies. That is the only way that you will ever escape me."

She glared up at him, her eyes an inch from his, his nose pressed against hers, her breath bursting from her lips in gasps as they stared at each other while her body reached for the heights of orgasm. This orgasm was different, nothing like the orgasms she’d given herself in the darkness of her own bedroom or the one Mateo had given her on the lawn behind the house.

This one was so much more intense, so much more out of her control. She was hurtling toward a gaping unknown and before she could stop herself, he shoved her over the edge. She cried out and sank her nails into his arms while flinging her head back into the mattress, her body as taut a bowstring as an orgasm ripped through her.

As she came, Mateo’s cock seemed to grow bigger inside her and she gasped at the discomfort. His thrusts became more frantic, more painful. And then he was finished, sperm shooting inside her unprotected body.

Mateo froze, staring down at her with his dark shuttered eyes. She stared back at him, shock freezing her as well. They had gone from having a decent friendship, to a shaky relationship status, to this.

"Get off me." Her voice was quiet but firm.

She was surprised when Mateo actually did climb off her and then off the bed. He stood up, his broad shoulders back, his head up. She saw turmoil in him, but she didn't see regret. She saw pride, determination, ruthlessness. This was the man who would become her husband. Not the gentle lover that she been gradually getting to know over the past few weeks.

She crawled off the bed and bent over to pick up her bikini bottoms, trying desperately not to feel the shame that was slowly washing over her like a wave. Tears pricked her eyes. She wasn't sure if they were tears of anger or tears of hurt. Either way he had done this to her and she hated him for it.

She pulled on the bottoms and then reached for her robe, shoving her arms through the holes and belting it tightly. Without a word, without a backwards glance, she left, walking out of the bunker and leaving him behind.

Mateo didn't stop her.

38

Raina studied herself in the mirror of her make up table. To her eyes she looked different. Drawn. More serious. Even if her body didn't reflect it, she was altered. She felt as though she'd grown up overnight.

Raina had always thought herself more mature than her classmates growing up. She'd reined in Cass's impetuosity and helped organize Noah. She helped her parents on the farm. She was a responsible person. Yet she clung to her youth and some of her immaturity. She was only twenty-one, she shouldn't have to grow up so fast.

Mateo, he was older… she didn't know how much. She’d never asked him. She figured late thirties. There was something about him, something that didn't make the age gap such a big deal. But now, she felt as though the years were impossible to breach. His life experience, who he was as a person, had stomped all over her, showing her exactly how young she was. How not ready for this world she was.

She had to leave. She had no choice. She couldn't allow a repeat of what they’d done and she could no longer consent to marriage with a person like him. One day, she would piss him off again and they would find themselves back there in the bunker, in the same place. He would hurt her again, and again, and again, until she couldn't take it anymore. She would become Casey under Ignacio Hernandez’s regime. She would become Elvira under Tony Montana's ownership. Raina would not allow that to happen.

She didn't feel the tears until she looked up at herself in the mirror. She touched her face as they dripped down her cheeks. She would allow herself to mourn this one night only, then she needed to get back to herself so that she could find a way out.

She pushed away from the makeup table and strode towards the bathroom stripping her clothes off as she went.

Raina took a hot shower that lasted nearly forty minutes. She scrubbed herself clean, washed her hair twice and shaved every inch of her body. Just because she was traumatized didn't mean she couldn't take care of herself.

She pulled on her cami top and a pair of pajama bottoms and slid beneath her sheets. Though she wasn't afraid of the dark she decided to sleep with the light on; being able to see when she woke up would be comforting. She wouldn't have to worry about monsters in the dark.

Raina didn't come to Mateo’s room, not that he expected her to, but he'd hoped. He should've known better though. What he’d done to her, anywhere else in the world it would be unforgivable. Even to him and his moral code it was unforgivable. Yet, he made no apologies.

It had been necessary to wake her up to the realities of their world. Raina was reckless. He'd allowed her those two years to establish her independence, but she got herself hurt. Here at the estate, she was attempting to control their home, to control him. She was taking more frequent trips out and chafing under the required security measures. He needed her to understand that he was the boss. He would always be the boss.

He needed to frighten her into listening to him without hesitation, without exception. She couldn't be her usual argumentative self if they ever came under fire. If they were attacked, she would need to react without thought, which meant obeying her master. Her husband. Mateo.

Yet, he hadn't thought he had it in him to actually hurt her. And it destroyed a piece of him, a piece he'd been holding onto for her sake. It was the part of Mateo that wanted a normal relationship, a normal civilized love. He was obsessed with this woman, but her safety had to come first. Even if that meant her safety came above her human rights.

With that last thought he left his room and strode down the hall toward hers. When he opened the door, he found her sound asleep in her bed, curled on her side with the light on. A shock of pain pierced him as he realized she was probably sleeping with the light on because she was scared of him. He’d become her monster in the dark.

The thought gutted him, and he continued to stand in her doorway looking at her as he brought his emotions under control.

He couldn't allow this to fester though. If he did, it would change the direction of his actions and he knew he was in the right. They didn't inhabit the regular world of rules and laws, they lived in the underworld. Where people died, they disappeared and loved ones mourned. He would not allow that to happen to Raina.

He scooped her off the bed and turned on his heel, striding back to his bedroom. She woke up as they were halfway down the hall and began to struggle in his arms. Her eyes were half open, her focus bleary.

"Wh - what are you doing?" she protested groggily.

Before she could begin fighting in earnest, he set her on the bed and turned to close and lock the door. She scrambled off the bed and flung herself to the opposite side of the room, her chest heaving in fear, her pupils dilated as she stared at him.

He realized immediately what she thought was going to happen. He lifted his hands and approached her slowly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She angrily swiped at a tear that dripped from her eye. "I don't believe you."

"When have I ever lied to you, Raina?" he asked quietly.

"You said you would protect me, but you didn’t, you hurt me."

"I know you can't understand right now, but by hurting you I am protecting you.” He tried to approach her, but she jumped away and hit the wall behind her so hard she winced. He stopped moving so she wouldn’t accidentally hurt herself. “I told you that I would make decisions in your best interest; even the ones you don’t want me to make.”

"Fuck you!" she snarled. "You don't get to tell me you know what's best for me after doing something like that. You… you… disgusting excuse for a man."

He gritted his teeth against her accusation, reminding himself that anger was not the way to go. He had allowed his anger to rein free in the bunker and now he would have to deal with the fallout.

"You need to calm down, Raina. This is your reality. You are my wife and you will sleep in my bedroom. I give you my word, I won't touch you. It’ll be like our first night together."

“I’m not your wife.” Raina eyed him, then the door.

"I won't let you leave this room. We can stand here all night if that's what you want, but you’re not walking out that door before morning."

His words were spoken calmly though he was a raging inferno of emotion on the inside. Only Raina could do this to him, pull these kind of feelings from him. He was good at his job because he was a born killer. He enjoyed the hunt. But with Raina, he wanted to be a better person.

Finally, after several long minutes of motionless stand-off she said, "Okay, but you stay on your side of the bed. If any part of you touches any part of me it’s getting bitten off."

He had to fight the unexpected urge to chuckle. He could definitely picture Raina taking a chunk out of his skin if he accidentally rolled over against her.

He stepped to the side and waved her toward the bed. She cautiously sidled past him and then slid beneath the sheets, settling her head on her pillow. Mateo decided to keep his pants on for now. He didn't want to frighten her again.

He slid into the bed beside her and pulled the blanket over top of them. She hissed in anger and wiggled further away from him before closing her eyes and tucking her hands in the prayer position underneath her head.

Mateo reached over and turned the lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. He didn't think he would sleep, so he lay staring at nothing and thinking about the future weeks and the problems they would hold now that he'd made an enemy out of his wife.

He thought that Raina had drifted to sleep, her breathing having evened out. But then her voice penetrated the darkness as she said so quietly he almost didn't hear, "I was a virgin."

39

Vee shifted uncomfortably, rolling over and trying to find a new position. Then she rolled back, shoved her pillow underneath her head and closed her eyes, trying to sleep again. The bright light pouring through the pointless filmy purple curtains penetrated her eyelids like tiny burning needles.

It was impossible, she couldn't get comfortable.

Vee rolled to the side of the bed and sat up, swinging her feet to the floor and sliding them into the slippers provided. She pushed her hair off her face and stretched, yawning. Then she stood, reached for her bathrobe, also provided by her generous host, and headed out to the kitchen for her cup of morning tea.

"Morning," Danny said, entirely too chipper.

Vee mumbled something incoherent, took the herbal tea he handed her and plunked herself down at the table. She stared blearily at nothing until the hot liquid started to take wake her up.

"Where’re Christine and Sadie?" she asked after a few minutes.

Danny turned from the counter where he was making himself a sandwich. "Christine took Sadie to her daycare and then she's going to work. She works in accounting at UPS."

Danny's wife's job was so mundane the Vee almost couldn't wrap her head around it. Especially considering the dark and exciting world the Danny inhabited. "She's not mafia?"

It wasn't exactly a polite question to ask, but she was curious. How had Danny managed to meet a normal girl-next-door type, and then convince her to date him long enough for him to put a ring on it? Danny was as rough-and-tumble as they came, had fought his way up the food chain to become second-in-command to Vee and now Mateo.

"She's connected, but distantly. Has a cousin working for the Alvarez family." Danny named a local mob family that engaged in gunrunning. Technically they would be Mateo's competition.

"She seems sweet," Vee said noncommittally.

Christine did seem like a sweet woman. She had welcomed Vee into her home, knowing that Vee had a dark past and an even darker husband. She allowed Vee to spend the night under her roof without complaint. She’d offered up their daughter’s room since they only had the two bedrooms and an office in the lovely seaside cottage. This was more than Vee would have done.

"Yes," Danny said firmly. "She's about as nice as they come. I don't deserve her, but I'll do anything to keep her."

Vee nodded. "Good man."

Danny sank onto a chair at the table taking a huge bite out of his sandwich before dropping it on a plate and opening his laptop. He turned it so that both of them could see the screen. He pulled up a file entitled Daniela Velasquez. Together, Vee and Danny went through each item in an attempt to track down the now deceased Daniela's connection with the mystery woman who took her identity.

So far, the only connection they could find was Mateo’s and Raina's desire for an interior designer and the fact that the designer they chose came highly recommended and was Latina.

Vee rubbed her forehead and growled, "I don't know how to keep my daughter safe if I don't know what the danger is or where it's coming from."

Danny gave her a long look. "The danger is going to come from your husband once he realizes that you didn't board that plane to Venezuela. Which, at my estimation, was around midnight last night. Am I correct?"

"Are you lecturing me?" Vee demanded, glaring at him. “My daughter’s safety is more important than Isaac’s commands.”

He grinned and held his hand up. "You're not my boss anymore, lady. I'm doing you a favour by letting you stay here, but you're not doing me one by setting the Butcher on my ass."

Vee felt a bolt of guilt. She hadn't thought about the fallout to the people who were sheltering her when Sotza discovered that instead of going home she decided to stay in Miami to hunt down any leads on the woman who deceived her daughter.

"I'm sorry, Danny. I didn't think about that. And you have a wife and daughter now. I should leave." Vee started to stand, but Danny reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"You're not going anywhere." He held her arm until she was forced to sit. "For one thing, I'm the only ally you have in this town who’s capable of helping you with this. Your husband is going to come banging down my door anytime now and I'd rather you be under my roof than anywhere else. I figure I have more of a chance of survival if I can hand you right over than if he has to wait to get his hands on you."

Vee let out a laugh. "You're not wrong about that."

They continued to research their prey until they came up with a lead. They were going to question the carpenters that had been working on the house alongside Daniela Velasquez. Mateo had tried talking to them but had gotten nowhere. The head contractor had seemed clueless about their employer. They knew she belonged to an interior design company, but they hadn't set eyes on her prior to construction at the mansion. This in itself was unusual, since most interior decorators had teams that they preferred to work with.

Danny and Vee found them at their new job, building offices in a warehouse near the docks. Vee felt a rush of nostalgia as she passed the dockyard. This had been part of her territory when she'd reigned over Miami. She had fought valiantly for it when she’d gone to war with Sotza. Now, it belonged to Mateo.

Vee’s heels tapped against the concrete floor as she made her way through the warehouse, searching for any sign of a carpenter. She found them at the back of the building, joking with each other and discussing which bar they wanted to hit up after their workday finished. It was Friday afternoon so they were probably going to knock off early and head out for drinks.

"Can I help you?" A bearded man looked up from his position where he was crouched on the ground next to a wall.

"I'm looking for the foreman," she said coolly.

Danny stood behind Vee, silent and mean-looking. They fell into their old roles, Vee as the boss and Danny her hired muscle. But he was more than a thug, he was her protection and she knew without a doubt he wouldn’t fail her.

"You’re talking to him," the man said, straightening up from the floor and dusting off the front of his jeans. “Name’s Lincoln Frye.”

"Good to meet you, Lincoln," Vee said, her voice cool and professional. "I want to talk about a recent job you and your team did for Daniela Velasquez."

The guy frowned. "I'm beginning to think there's something shady going on with that job. First that tough guy that owned the house grilled us, then his woman bodyguard, now you. What's up with that place?"

"It's not the place we're concerned about so much as the woman who infiltrated it. The woman who hired you was an imposter. She was not Daniela Velasquez."

Lincoln's eyebrows raised and he looked genuinely surprised. Vee realized that she’d given him a piece of information no one else had. When Mateo and Angela had interrogated him, they hadn't given him all the information, which meant he wouldn't have known how to form his responses accordingly. He would've answered their questions, but not through the filter of knowing there was something off about the woman who hired him.

"Yes, the real Daniela was found murdered in her home. We think the imposter killed her and took her place. What we don't know is why." Vee didn't feel a single moment’s hesitation about giving up all the information. She was confident she was doing the right thing, though Mateo likely wouldn't agree.

"Holy fuck," Lincoln drawled, his amazement building. He shook his head. "She was so fucking hot, hard to believe she could kill a person."

Vee closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them and exhaled. She hoped for his sake that this man never again met a woman who was both beautiful and deadly, because they were far more common that he apparently thought. Vee could kill him in an instant right where he stood, and he wouldn't even know he was dead before he hit the ground. She had a knife in her purse, and a gun in her holster at her back. Aside from that, she was also very good at hand-to-hand combat.

"We want to know what she was doing there. Did she ask you any questions about the place while you were renovating? Did she say anything to you that seems strange in hindsight?"

He thought about it, then shook his head. "Not really. Nothing set off any red flags. To be honest, she was a stone-cold bitch, none of us had much to do with her besides taking her direction on the renovations."

Vee felt deflated. This was the only lead she and Danny could come up with and it was going to be a bust. She was about to thank Lincoln for talking to her, when he spoke again.

"Though there was this one time that she loosened up enough to talk to me for more than two seconds. I asked her where she came from since she had a slight accent. I was surprised when she actually answered. I got the feeling she was proud of her hometown. Like she felt disgusted at having to be here. At the time it didn't really blip on my radar, but now, it does seem weird that a woman with a well-established interior design business in Florida would rather be in Mexico."

Excitement jolted through Vee and her hands shook when she clasped them together. "Where was she from? Where was her hometown?"

He didn't even pause, as though he remembered every detail of the conversation with the fake Daniela. "She was from the Durango region in Mexico, outside the city, up in the Sierra Madres."

Vee felt both elation and terror as she realized exactly who had come in close contact with her daughter. Desi. The woman who came to Sotza's Venezuelan island with her lover, Nicolás Garza, to kill them both and take over the Venezuelan cartel. Mateo had hunted down the man behind the attack, but he hadn't been able to find Desi.

And if she was being honest, Vee had to admit that none of them had put a whole lot of effort into finding Desi. As far as they had been concerned, Desi was Nico's second-in-command, she'd been forced to follow his orders, then she’d run away when things got hot.

Well, Desi had just become a priority. Vee was going to hunt her down and play with her insides.

Vee thanked Lincoln for his help, handed him a roll of bills and told him to buy his team a round of beer, then she turned on her heel and walked away with Danny at her side.

"Do you know who Desi is?" Vee asked Danny.

"Yes."

That one simple word held a grim finality to it. If Desi was still after Raina, then Raina was in very big trouble.

They drove back to Danny's house in silence. They would have to come up with a plan, but for now Vee needed to decide what she was going to do with this information. Did she keep it to herself or did she discuss it with Mateo?

Mateo would be furious if he found out that she'd interfered, but he would be less furious if Vee shared the information. Vee didn't need to make an enemy out of Mateo. Still… What if he didn't take this seriously, what if he didn't take the proper steps to protect Raina?

Vee was still contemplating what action she would take when they arrived at the house. She got out of the car and started walking toward the house, so lost in thought that she didn’t see the car with tinted windows until a door opened and a man got out.

He was tall, distinguished-looking, handsome and controlled. He wore his suit to perfection. Her heart stuttered when she caught sight of him. He strode angrily toward her, his face darkening into a thunderous frown.

"Elvira."

Dammit, he only ever called her that when he was furious. Well, two could play this game.

"Sotza," she said, using his last name, something she only did when he was being a dick.

40

"We need to talk." Sotza's voice was cold and hard.

Vee was in very big trouble. Then again, she’d known she would be in trouble the moment she decided not to get on the airplane back to Venezuela. This was her reckoning.

Sotza eyed Danny who was standing slightly beside and behind Vee. His posture was somewhat protective but both men knew that Danny wouldn’t make a move against the Butcher.

"Someplace private," Sotza said, jerking his head toward the house.

Sotza took Vee's arm in a tight grip as Danny unlocked the door, pushed it open and ushered the other two inside. Vee continued down the hall, showing Sotza to the bedroom she'd used the night before.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Vee began defending herself. "I had to stay, Isaac. Raina is my daughter, nothing else is more important."

Sotza took a step toward her, forcing her to back up until she hit the door. As he approached, she lifted her chin in defiance. He towered over her, placing a hand on the door next to her head. Though he wasn't being overtly threatening, his body language hinted at it.

"Agreed," he said quietly.

Vee was shocked. She hadn’t expected such an easy capitulation from her husband. He was king of the underground in many South American regions and had to maintain a hard exterior in order to preserve his role. Even with Vee, he was often dictator-like. He frequently curtailed her decision-making powers. She was to go where he told her to go, stay where he told her to stay and do what he told her to do. Despite that, Sotza did respect his wife and held her to a high standard. She worked, lived and loved at his side.

"You agree?" she asked, off-balance.

"I do." His voice was deep velvet, though she heard the underlying steel. He was still angry with her. "But you do not have my permission to go off on your own. You knew when you made this choice that I wouldn’t approve. There will be consequences."

"What kind of consequences?" she asked quietly.

Sotza could be breathtakingly brutal, even with his wife. She'd seen him working in his dungeon, experienced his anger firsthand. She wasn't eager for the consequences that he spoke of.

"You don’t need to worry about that now. For the moment, we will concentrate on the safety of our daughter." He paced away from Vee, though he didn't go far given the limited space in the bedroom. "Unlike you, Mateo has been updating me with information on this potential threat against Raina. First, you will tell me what you’ve learned and then we will talk to Mateo. We’ll find this Daniela bitch and we will remove the threat to our family."

Tears rushed to Vee's eyes. She felt guilty that she'd underestimated Sotza and his care for her daughter. She had acted impulsively, a character trait that some might call a flaw. A trait she had in common with her daughter. Vee threw herself at her husband and hugged him tightly around the waist pressing her ear to his heart.

"Thank you."

He stood stiff for a few seconds and then she felt the gradual loosening of his muscles. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around her, his hand cupping the back of her head as he held her to his chest. He dropped his head and pressed a kiss against the fine blonde hair.

"Raina is well loved, none of us will allow anything to happen to her. Mateo will hunt her enemies to the ends of the earth and beyond. He’ll sacrifice himself for your daughter. You must trust him and trust me."

"I do," she insisted, sniffling back tears. She tipped her head up so her chin rested on his chest. He looked down at her. "I'm sorry I didn't give you the respect you deserve. You should've heard about this from me, not Mateo. I should've trusted you to help me. I just…"

"I'm not your ex-husband, Elvira. I will always take care of you and yours. Raina is my daughter as well and I will move heaven and earth to ensure her safety."

"I know," she whispered.

She was deeply moved by his words. There was a time, a few years ago when they had to fight hard for their love. Vee had denied him her daughter. She had told him to his face that he was not Raina’s father. Now she knew better. Raina had two fathers; Joe Duncan and Isaac Sotza. Either one would die for her.

"Will we be staying in Miami?" she asked hesitantly.

This was a large part of the reason why she hadn't told Sotza that she was planning on staying behind. She feared he would order her to get on a plane, and if she didn't comply, he would've sent Mateo after her. Now, she feared something different. She worried that he would send her home to Venezuela and stay himself. A result of her own screwup.

He nodded. "Yes, we’ll stay in Miami for now. But if you put one hair out of line, you'll find yourself back on the compound in Venezuela so fast your head will spin. You will be locked in your room until I can arrive to lay down your new law."

She wanted to argue with him, as she often did when he went all patriarchal on her, but she was so grateful to have him here and to have his support that she nodded. "I understand."

He stepped away from her, though he kept a hand on her back. He looked around the room, his eyes narrowing. "Grab your things, we’ll be staying somewhere else. I don't think we'll both fit in the bed."

Vee giggled as she glanced at the tiny princess bed that she'd slept in the night before. A perfectly wonderful bed for a five-year-old girl, a complete nightmare for an adult.

41

Raina watched dismally as her things were moved from her old room into Mateo's room. She was sitting on her soon-to-be old bed with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed as the men moved everything out. They attempted to get her to come to Mateo’s room and tell them where to put it all.

She bit her lip so that she wouldn't reply with, "Up your ass". It wasn't their fault that she and Mateo were fighting.

Fighting felt like such a weak word for what was happening between them. More like a catastrophic shift in their relationship. Raina was more confused than ever about what she felt for Mateo. True to his word, he hadn't touched her during the night. They had lain side by side, neither of them sleeping for a long time. She hadn't been afraid of him, not exactly. Even though he hurt her, she still trusted him when he told her that he wouldn't touch her.

But the fact that he had hurt her at all, deliberately and mercilessly, told her that he could do it again. And that was where most of her confusion came from. She wasn't going to delude or lie to herself; she was in love with Mateo, had been in love with him for years. He was a hard man to resist. He was devoted to her health, safety and comfort.

But the problem was the order of his priorities. Mateo would always put her health and safety above her comfort. Yet, Raina would argue that a person needed happiness for survival as much as they needed the basics.

That morning, she had woken up tucked against his side, her back to him, her butt pressed against his hip. Her hands had been underneath her head as though she had curled up against him in her sleep, seeking warmth. She didn't move; didn't want to move. In fact, she wanted to roll over against him and watch him as he slept, but she didn't. She still couldn't deal with her emotions over what happened.

They had sex. No, not sex. Sex was consensual. Mateo had attacked her, and she’d been forced to take it. And much to her shame, her body had betrayed her during the ordeal. Realistically, she knew that women were capable of orgasming under extreme circumstances but knowing that and feeling it were two different things.

Mateo had demonstrated to her, with his actions, how different their worlds were. Raina wanted love, respect and a marriage built on a foundation of equality and mutual caring. She didn't want a husband who would lay down the law, force her compliance and treat her like a prisoner if she dared to voice her dissent.

But Mateo inhabited the world of organized crime. A place where the rules were different. Raina would be naïve not to pay attention to that world; to assume that she wasn't a part of it because she didn't want to be.

The fact was, Raina was born to the mafia. She didn't have a choice. She'd never had a choice. That was why Sotza had ordered Mateo to pick her up two years ago, to bring her to Venezuela to meet her birth mother.

Now, like it or not, Raina was firmly entrenched in Mateo’s world. It was a depressing thought; one she didn't want to linger on. She pushed herself off the bed and stood, then headed for the door. She nearly ran into one of the bodyguards coming in for another load.

"Excuse me," he said politely and then went around her. He lifted Raina’s makeup table in one arm as though it weighed nothing.

Mateo had told her that morning that he wanted her permanently moved into his room. He didn't want her thinking that she could escape back into her old room, pushing him out. He had informed her that her things would be moved over and that she didn't have a choice.

She had informed him that he could go fuck himself. She’d had the pleasure of watching his body tighten in annoyance, but he left without saying a word, denying her the fight she so richly wanted. The scratches visible on his face from their fight in the bunker would have to suffice her thirst for vengeance.

Raina went in search of Danny, hoping he would agree to take her shopping. She didn't really need to go shopping, nor did she have a strong desire for it, but she wanted to get out of the house. She couldn't sit there and watch as all her things were moved into Mateo's room.

Raina knocked on the door of the security office. A feminine voice told her to come in.

"Hey Angela." Raina tried to sound more upbeat than she felt. "Danny around?"

Angela shook her head and leaned back in her chair. "Nope. Mateo asked Danny to join him for the day. Mateo wants to reach out to some of Vee’s old connections and thought Danny would be able to help."

"Oh." With all the turmoil of the past few days, Raina had forgotten that Mateo had a big job to do in Miami.

A tiny part of her forgave him for his actions of the day before. Not only was he trying to establish the boundaries of their relationship, but he was under a great deal of stress. He was taking over one of the most important underground international hub cities in the world. The job was dangerous, though she had no doubt he would succeed. She couldn’t imagine a world where Mateo didn’t get exactly what he wanted. He wouldn’t allow it.

"Did they take any bodyguards with them?" Raina asked, worried for Mateo’s safety.

Angela smirked at her, as though she thought Raina's concern was cute. "You do know that both Mateo and Danny acted as bodyguards in a professional capacity, right? Danny was Vee’s bodyguard for years, even before she became a boss, and Mateo has been Sotza’s protection for more than two decades. They can take care of themselves."

Raina huffed. "I know, I know. I guess I just worry more now. Especially since I’m more informed about the inner workings here."

It was true. No one was attempting to sugarcoat Raina's new existence. She wondered if it was a group effort to keep her informed for her own safety. If she knew how bad things could get, then she might be less likely to place herself in harmful situations. Angela more than the others gave Raina the bald truth every time. Raina was grateful for that.

Angela seemed to take pity on her. "You don't have to worry about them. Not only are they capable of taking care of themselves, but they also took several men with them. I don't think they were doing anything particularly dangerous, but these days they seem to be taking back-up everywhere. They’re protected and the house is like Fort Knox. We're all in good shape."

Raina smiled. "Thanks for the reassurance."

"No problem, chica,” Angela said, putting a foot up on the desk. "What can I help you with? You came in here looking for Danny. What did you need him for?"

Raina shrugged. "Nothing much, I wanted to get out of the house for a few hours. I was hoping he would take me shopping. But it's not a big deal, I can go another time."

Angela pushed herself away from the desk and got to her feet. "I'll take you. I can use a timeout from the desk. Who knew house security would involve so much paperwork? We’ll grab a couple of the guys, eat some lunch and hit up the South Beach shopping. You haven't had a chance to check it out yet, have you? I've been dying to get over there myself, but Mateo’s been keeping me busy."

Raina was surprised to hear Angela talking about wanting to shop. Angela was a no-nonsense kind of girl. She never wore makeup that Raina could tell, she kept her long dark hair knotted tightly at the base of her neck and she always wore militaristic clothes. Cargo pants, basic T-shirt and combat boots. She also tended to wear a utility belt with a variety of weapons.

Raina would be massively intimidated by Angela if they hadn't spent several weeks getting to know each other. Raina had discovered a total softy in Angela; a woman who had to put on a tough exterior to live in a man's world, while still managing to maintain her compassion. She cared about others. She checked on Raina often and Raina knew that Angela had conversations with Mateo, making sure that he was being safe and that he knew he had an ear if he needed to talk over any of his plans. Angela was well suited for house duty, organizing protection details and security. Raina was pleased that Mateo seemed to be grooming her for that particular job.

Twenty minutes later they were on their way to South Beach, Angela in the driver’s seat, Raina in the passenger and the bodyguards in the back.

"Do you miss Venezuela?" Raina asked casually. "Do you think you'll go back there?"

Angela didn't take her eyes off the road, but she shrugged. "I don't have any family in Venezuela, but I do love the country. I'll definitely go visit. For now though, I prefer to remain at Mateo's side, whether that's here or somewhere else."

Raina nodded thoughtfully. She had felt a strong connection to her parent’s farm. Her upbringing had been happy, and she wouldn't trade it for the world, but when she'd been kidnapped by Mateo and taken to Venezuela, her eyes had been opened to the wider world. After, when she'd gone on the run for two years, she had discovered in herself a deep desire to explore other places.

Though Miami was starting to grow on her, Raina still wanted to explore the world. Another unknown in her relationship with Mateo. Would he allow her to travel further abroad, or would he try to keep her in Miami? She didn't know, and not knowing was one of the fundamental issues with her relationship. Mateo would lay down the law and she would be expected to follow. How much autonomy she had in those decisions was yet to be established.

Raina had a surprisingly good time shopping with Angela. She discovered a hidden Barbie in the other woman. Angela loved colours in a way that Raina would not have suspected based on her tendency to wear only dark clothes when she worked. Angela chose several feminine items, including a pink dress, a red leather mini skirt that she paired with a bustier, a new pair of heels and a few items of jewelry.

Raina didn't buy much since she already had more than she needed at the mansion, but being out and about, breathing the fresh air with a hint of ocean and spending time with another woman helped to reorient her. She felt more like herself and more able to put the events of the past twenty-four hours into perspective.

She was still angry with Mateo, very angry, but she was seeing things more clearly now. Not much had changed besides her status as a virgin. She would still become wife to the mob boss of Miami. She was still the daughter of one of the most powerful families in the world.

But despite all that, she stayed true to herself. She still loved all the things that she had loved before, she still desired a relationship with Mateo and she still wanted to work. Forging was her art, an outlet, not one that she would willingly give up.

In fact, she purchased a few supplies while they were out. Angela had given her a long look but hadn't said anything. They were on their way back to the SUV when Angela slowed down, barring Raina with her arm. Raina's heart sped up. Angela was not a jumpy person; if she thought she had cause for concern, Raina believed her.

"Stay behind me at all times, don't leave, don't try to help me if we’re attacked." Angela spoke quickly, turning completely professional on a dime. "I don't see the bodyguards."

Angela was right. Raina looked right and then left, searching the sidewalk for the two men who’d been trailing them all day. Neither of the men had gotten more than ten feet away from Raina at any point during the shopping excursion. Where had they gone?

"What do we do?" Raina asked, her heart thundering so loud she could barely hear. Did they stay on the crowded sidewalk and hope that whatever happened to the bodyguards didn't happen to them? Or did they try to run and hide?

"There's a door right behind you, go into the shop and head for the rear exit. Don't look back, I'll be right behind you."

Together they rushed into the shop, Raina hurtling towards the back door. She could hear Angela behind her. She continued running toward the change rooms.

"Where's your exit?" Angela shouted at the shop person.

Raina was already in the back hallway so she didn't hear the answer, but Angela came sprinting after her, only a few feet behind. Raina was so concentrated on getting to the rear exit as fast as she could that she didn't hear Angela's words in time.

"Let me go first!" Angela shouted just as Raina hit the bar across the back door, shoving it open and slamming into the alley.

Everything happened so quickly that Raina didn't have a chance to defend herself or Angela who was right behind her. Something slammed into Raina so hard that she hit the door then rebounded and hit the wall. She crumpled to the ground, dropping her bags as she fell. She landed on her side and remained that way, stunned and hurt.

Seconds later, she heard a pop pop sound. It was like the sounds from her apartment when she’d been shot. She flinched, then curled into herself expecting to feel the hot tearing sensation of bullets ripping through her.

When nothing happened, she looked up hoping to find Angela. But the person crouching next to her wasn’t Angela, it was Daniela Velasquez. Not Daniela Velasquez; the person who killed her.

"Get up." Her voice was cold and emotionless.

When Raina didn't immediately move, Daniela reached out and gripped her by the hair, yanking her to her feet. Raina let out a pained yelp and tried to defend herself, sending an elbow flying towards Daniela's face. Daniela ducked and punched Raina in the side. Raina screamed as she slammed back into the side of the building, pain radiating through her side and back.

Again, Raina tried to defend herself. She whipped around, sending a fist flying towards Daniela's face, but Daniela grabbed her arm and punched Raina in the chest. Raina crumpled to the ground once more, the world spinning around her, the breath knocked from her chest and a burning sensation climbing up her throat. She rolled over onto her hands and knees and threw up.

The woman grabbed her by the hair again and dragged her off the cement. Raina caught a glimpse of Angela. She was lying motionless on her stomach, her head turned to the side and her eyes closed. She was so pale Raina feared she was dead. That explained the popping sounds. Daniela had shot her.

Raina was so dizzy and nauseous that when she tried to lift her arms to defend herself Daniela was able to easily knock them to the side. Daniela gripped her by the throat, lifted her off the ground and slammed her into the wall, smacking the back of Raina's head.

Daniela pulled her gun and pushed it underneath Raina's chin. Raina's eyes filled with tears as she saw her own demise rushing towards her. She was about to die, and she didn't even know what she’d done to deserve it.

"Why?" she whispered.

The cold eyes narrowed on her as Daniela debated whether or not to speak to Raina. It was clear that she intended to do the job she came to do, which was kill Raina.

Finally, Daniela answered, her words clipped. "It's not personal. Your fiancé killed Nico, and now I must kill him before he can kill me."

Raina didn't think that cleared anything up. "How will killing me also kill Mateo?"

"You’re his distraction, my tool to getting to him. I need you dead so that he will become reckless with grief, so that he will begin hunting me once more."

Raina didn't think the logic added up, but she wasn't going to argue with the woman who had a gun. "I don't think you want to kill me," Raina tried to reason with her.

Daniela laughed bitterly. "Your death means nothing to me. Another day, another job. Now close your eyes, sweetheart, and you will sleep. I’ll make it quick."

Hysteria began to rise up in Raina as Daniela moved the gun to her temple. There was nothing left to do. Raina closed her eyes and waited for death.

42

When the shot came it wasn't Raina who was hit. Her eyes flew open. Daniela screamed in pain, released her grip on Raina's neck, jumped back and slammed a hand over her hip which was now pouring blood.

Raina looked around in confusion and saw Angela who had rolled to her side, pulled her gun and shot Daniela. Angela was about to shoot again when Daniela took off down the alley. Rather than shooting at her though, Angela dropped her gun and collapsed onto the pavement.

Raina peeled herself off the side of the building and lunged for the gun. It took her two tries to pick it up because her hands were shaking so bad and her head was still spinning. She covered Angela with her own body and turned to watch as Daniela disappeared around the corner of the building.

Thank god she didn't have to make the decision of whether or not to shoot the other woman. Raina had never killed anyone before and she didn't want to start now. Not that Raina would've actually been able to hit her at that distance, having never used a gun before.

As soon as Raina thought they were relatively safe, she turned back to Angela and assessed her. Angela was out cold. Somehow she’d managed to wake up long enough to stop Daniela from killing Raina. Now it was Raina's turn to protect Angela.

Hands still shaking, she picked up her purse, dumped it on the ground and rummaged until she found her phone. She called Mateo as she was running her hands over Angela's body searching for gunshot wounds. There was a hole in Angela's T-shirt over her heart, but there was no blood. Raina lifted her shirt and felt around. Angela was wearing a heavy vest, most likely bulletproof. Hopefully her vigilance would save her life.

"Raina."

Raina's heart soared as soon as she heard Mateo's voice. Hearing his deep voice reassured her like nothing else could.

"Angela's been shot," she said, her voice high-pitched and panicked. "What do I do?"

"Are you safe?" he demanded.

"Yes, I'm safe enough for now. Angela saved my life. But please, Mateo, help me. What do I do?"

"Where was she shot?"

"In the chest, over her heart, but I think she's wearing something bulletproof underneath."

"Yes, good, it’s part of her uniform." His voice was calm and cool, but she could hear the growing rage. Heads would roll over this incident. “Has she been shot anywhere else?"

Raina searched again and found another hole, this one on the left side of Angela's torso. This one had hit the bulletproof vest as well. "Yes, but in the vest again. I don't think she was shot anywhere else; I don't see any blood. Why is she knocked out?"

Raina's heart felt like it was going to burst from her chest. Her movements seemed slow and sluggish. She felt like an idiot, like she couldn't help Angela and she desperately wanted to.

Mateo's voice was calm and soothing. "Even though the bullets didn't penetrate her skin, there’s still trauma in getting shot through a bulletproof vest. The one that struck her over her heart likely put a vast amount of pressure on her chest. Danny is on his way. He'll help. Trust him and do everything he says.”

Tears trickled down Raina's face and she nodded even though he couldn't see it. "Okay, I'll wait for him." A sob escaped her throat. “Mateo… I don’t know where the other bodyguards are… what if…”

"Raina, mi amor, you cannot worry about that now.” His voice was gruff with concern, his accent thicker.

She swiped at an escaping tear and nodded. “Okay. I’ll take care of Angela; you can trust me.”

“Good girl. I’ll meet you at the house.” Raina garbled something in return and was about to hang up, but then she caught his last words. "I love you, Raina."

He hung up before she could return the words. She didn't know if she could yet anyway. With the events of the last few days, she felt burnt out, emotionally and physically. She wanted to lay down and turn the world off; no longer be responsible for anything, let alone her own feelings.

By the time Danny arrived she was a sobbing mess on the ground, one hand clutching her phone while the other tightly gripped Angela's hand. Angela still hadn't woken up and Raina was terribly worried. One of the shop employees had found her in the alley a couple minutes earlier and was sitting with her while they waited for Danny to arrive.

The shopkeeper had wanted to call an ambulance, but Raina had assured her that once her friend arrived, they would go straight to the hospital. She didn't know if it was true, but she figured it was the best thing she could say in the moment.

Two other men were with Danny. They covered the entrances to the alley while Danny checked Angela over, carefully picked her up off the ground, thanked the shopkeeper and strode to the SUV. After tucking Angela into the vehicle, Danny turned around and gave Raina a quick hug. “I’ve got you now, sweetheart. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Raina cried into his shoulder for a few seconds before pushing away. She insisted on climbing in the back seat with Angela and gripping her hand again.

43

Mateo paced impatiently near the front doors of the mansion as he waited for Danny's black SUV to traverse the driveway. Minutes later he caught a glimpse of the vehicle hurtling toward him. Before it could come to a complete stop, Raina was launching herself out one of the back doors and towards Mateo.

He caught her, absorbing the impact against his solid body, as she flung herself into his arms. It felt good having her sleight weight smashing into him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him, pressing her face into his chest.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea this would happen. I should've stayed home. I tried my hardest to fight Daniela off, but she was stronger and more skilled. What if something happens to Angela?" Raina's words came out in a garbled mess. Mateo was only able to decipher every other word, but he got the gist.

He ran his hand over her head and frowned as she winced when his fingers touched a spot on the back. "You did nothing wrong. This is not on you. If anyone should bear responsibility, it’s me. I didn't treat Daniela as enough of a serious threat."

He shuffled Raina to the side as Danny emerged from the vehicle with Angela in his arms. He paused in front of Mateo. “Thomas found our missing men. Both dead. One shot to the head each while they were still in the car.”

Raina collapsed against Mateo’s side, using him for support as she learned the fate of her bodyguards. She was indirectly responsible for their deaths, for Angela being shot.

Mateo nodded toward Angela and said in a clipped tone, "Take her to her bedroom. The doctor is on his way."

"Doesn't she need a hospital?" Raina asked tearfully, tilting her head up to look at him.

Mateo shook his head. "We only use hospitals as a last resort. And the doctor isn’t for Angela, he's for you. He'll check Angela over, but since there are no discernible injuries, she should be fine once she wakes up."

"But Angela is the one who got hurt!" Raina burst out, jerking back in his arms and frowning. "Daniela barely had time to touch me before Angela shot her."

Mateo hadn't known that Angela had shot Daniela. There was much he needed to find out. He spoke rapidly to his men, giving them instructions on how to organize security and instructing them to let the doctor through. They were about to go into full lockdown, no one in and no one out.

"Come." Mateo wrapped his arm around Raina's waist and walked with her into the mansion. She balked and tried to trail after Danny, but Mateo forced her up the stairs and into their bedroom.

"I'm fine!" she burst out once they were in the bedroom. "Nothing happened to me. I'm worried about Angela, and you should be too." There was accusation in her voice as she told him that he should be more concerned for his subordinate.

"Angela is part of my security team, which means there are certain risks that come with the job. You are our number one priority, and you will continue to be priority until I’m assured that you’re not hurt." When it looked as though she intended to argue with him, he held a hand up. "I care about Angela too. I've known her since she was a teenager. But it's a fact, she would want you to be secure before anyone concerns themselves with her well-being."

Raina's jaw tightened and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine, I'm secure. But I want an update on Angela's health as soon as possible."

Mateo rolled his shoulders back, cracking his neck and easing some of the tension. He really hadn't intended to argue with Raina. He wanted some of their easy friendship back and he seemed to be pushing that farther and farther away.

"As soon as the doctor is able to look you over, both of you, then I’ll allow you to see Angela. For now, I need you to sit down and rest." Her face softened and she allowed him to take her arm and help her into a sitting position on the bed. He sat next to her and ran a hand down her spine then massaged the base of her back. "You may not have been physically hurt, though I suspect at least a bump to the head. Regardless, the terror and adrenaline spike alone can cause complications. I need to be sure that you’re okay. Will you do this, will you allow a doctor to look you over? For me?"

They stared at each other, her deep blue eyes big and uncertain. It tore at his heart knowing that he was forcing her into a lifestyle where things like this were possible. He made enemies, he was a target, which made her a target too. He loved her too much to be okay with this, yet his love wasn't unselfish enough that he was willing to let her go.

"Okay, I'll talk to the doctor." She reached out and took his hand, as though she knew he needed reassuring. "Really though, I'm okay. The back of my head hit a wall and she punched my chest, but that's all she had time to do."

"She shouldn't have even been able to do that much." Mateo growled, fury rushing through him, igniting his desire for revenge. He stood, releasing her hand. "I need to go downstairs to confer with security and check on Angela. I'll be up in a few minutes with the doctor and an update."

Raina nodded, but as he was walking away, she stopped him. "The woman, Daniela, or whoever she is… she said you killed someone she knew.” She looked at him expectantly.

“Don’t worry about it for now. We’ll talk later.”

As Mateo left the room, Raina was crawling up the bed to lay down in her favourite position, on her side with her hands in the prayer position under her face. He wondered if she would take a nap or wait for the doctor. All he wanted to do was curl up next to her, hold her against his body and reassure himself that she was both real and alive.

Mateo strode down the hallway and took the stairs two at a time as he descended to the lower level. He snapped his fingers at Thomas and jerked his head towards his office. "Get Danny and meet me in here."

Mateo shoved the door open and strode inside. A half smile lifted his lips as he looked around. The place was in complete chaos, protective plastic sheets over his desk and chair, construction equipment everywhere and sawdust hanging in the air. The sight of such renewal gave him hope. Raina was renovating his office to erase the memories of its past occupant. A sentiment he wholeheartedly agreed with.

Danny and Thomas shuffled into his office, closing the door behind them.

Danny nodded his head toward Mateo and started speaking. "Boss. Angela is awake, she doesn't remember much of the incident, but she seems to be okay. Says when she was shot, she was flung backward into a doorframe and hit her head. I think that's why she was unconscious for so long. Might have a concussion."

Mateo was relieved. He was worried something more had happened to her than they hadn’t been able to see. He cared about Angela. He considered her a sister and had watched over her from the moment she became part of Sotza's organization. She had trained under Mateo and worked for several years as his protégé.

"Make sure the doctor is aware of all her injuries," Mateo said to Danny. "I'm putting you on house security while she's recovering. Consider us in full lockdown until the Velasquez situation is ended. I want a full-time guard on my wife. The only time he doesn’t need to have eyes on her is when she’s in my bedroom or in the bathroom. Otherwise, he is to be two feet away from her at all times."

"Consider it done." Danny turned to leave the office but glanced back at Mateo. “Have you talked to Sotza?”

Mateo gave Danny a hard stare. “Si, I have, but I should have heard about it from you first. You’re my man now, not theirs. Do not mix your allegiances again.”

There was a moment of tense waiting as the two men stared at each other while Thomas pretended he wasn’t part of the conversation.

Danny nodded stiffly. “Of course. It won’t happen again.”

Just like that Danny swore his allegiance to the new Miami boss. He left the office without another word.

Mateo turned his focus to Thomas. "I need you to go back to the store where the attack happened. Find out who in the area has security cameras and if there are any CCTV cameras in the vicinity. Get as much footage as you can. Take it to Sotza, he and Vee can look it over. It’s time to put this bitch in the ground."

Thomas seemed to hesitate as if he wanted to say something. Mateo waited, but Thomas shook his head and left the office. Mateo frowned. Thomas had been acting strange lately, inconsistent and indecisive; two things that could easily get a man in security killed. Mateo would have to talk to him. Perhaps America didn’t suit the native Venezuelan. He might need to be transferred back to Sotza.

Mateo called his former employer. Sotza picked up on the first ring. "Mateo, what can I do for you?"

Mateo launched straight into an explanation of the day's event, bringing Sotza up to date on everything that Mateo knew so far. "Thomas will come straight to you once he has the video footage."

"Good. We'll look it over, let you know if we find anything. For now, stay home, take care of the girls."

He hung up and minutes later the doctor arrived. Mateo escorted him upstairs to see Raina first. She sat up with a frown when they entered the room.

"Have you seen Angela yet? How is she?" Raina asked hurriedly.

"The doctor will see you first, then Angela." Mateo used a stern voice so she understood there would be no argument. He turned to the doctor, Shane Wilson. "You've been filled in on her condition?"

Dr. Wilson nodded as he approached the bed. "I was told that Ms. Duncan had kidney failure as a child and was given a transplant. That she now has one functioning kidney. May I?" He asked Raina, indicating her head. "I was informed that you sustained a bump to the head. Can you tell me where it is?"

As he looked her over, Raina said, "I've been doing great since the transplant. I don’t have any problems as long as I take my medications on time."

"You're on the antirejection meds? Are you on any other medications?"

She shook her head and he continued the examination. "I understand you were shot recently." His words were said with professionalism, as though there was nothing unusual about treating a gunshot victim. She wondered if he worked for the mob.

"Yes, I was shot." She twisted on the bed and lifted the bottom of her shirt, showing him the puckered red wound on her lower back.

Dr. Wilson continued to look her over until he was satisfied. He spoke mostly to Raina, though he occasionally directed his words toward Mateo. "You had a nasty shock today. You’ll want to rest and take it easy. Have some Tylenol if your head hurts, otherwise you're in perfect health."

Raina smiled at him. "Thank you. Are you going to go check on Angela now?"

The doctor smiled indulgently and nodded. "She's next on my list."

"Take good care of her."

Mateo walked the doctor out. Once the door to the bedroom closed, he spoke. "When is the soonest you can run tests on her."

"Tests?" The doctor asked.

"For her kidney," Mateo said, a hard edge to his voice. "Make sure she’s as healthy as she can be. I want to make sure that her body is strong and that it remains that way. I am in need of a full-time on-call physician. I want Raina checked regularly. I want to know the second anything is wrong."

The doctor looked at him thoughtfully and nodded. "I run a private clinic with two other doctors. It’s definitely within my capabilities of doing this service for you. There will be a retainer fee and it won't be cheap."

"Send me the bill."

44

Later that night, Raina was getting ready for bed when Mateo entered the room. She held her night shirt up against her chest, but it didn't cover much. She felt shy around him. Awkward.

"I want you to hear this." Mateo didn't seem to notice her nudity. He sat down on the edge of the bed and held his phone out, tapping the speakerphone icon.

"Tell Raina what you told me earlier." Mateo's voice was grim and Raina's heart sped up in reaction. She sank down on the bed next to him, her near nakedness forgotten.

"Raina, how are you?" Raina was surprised to hear her stepfather's voice. She didn't converse with him often, but she liked him. He was a stern and serious man, but he made it clear that he would always have a soft spot for Raina.

"I'm doing okay, a little shaken up. How are you?"

"Perfectly fine. So is your mother, she's here with me."

Vee spoke next. "Raina, honey, I'm close by if you need me. I can be there in a few minutes. Say the word."

Mateo stiffened next to Raina and she gave him a sidelong glance. Obviously, he didn't approve of Vee's plan to come riding in on a white horse. Raina hadn’t realized her mother was still in town and that Sotza had joined her, but she felt better having allies nearby. Not just for herself but for Mateo too.

"Sotza, tell Raina what you told me." Mateo interrupted their small family reunion to get the conversation back on track. That was his style though, no nonsense, no extras, business as usual.

Sotza switched gears, his voice becoming more serious. "We were finally able to get our hands on some video footage that showed Daniela's face. We know who she is. Her name is Desiree Navarro, companion and second-in-command to the late Nicolás Garza."

Raina frowned as she felt the air grow noticeably more chill. A heavy silence descended, and she dared a glance at Mateo. His brows were knitted in concentration, his face frozen in anger.

"This is on me," he finally said, his voice a low growl. "I decided she didn't constitute enough of a threat to occupy my time, even after I killed her lover. It was a mistake, one that has put Raina’s life at risk. Desi’s motive is revenge toward me."

"I would imagine that you are correct," Sotza said in a drawl. "But don’t be hard on yourself. You were given the task of retrieving Raina and keeping her safe as well as bringing Miami back under control. This is a monumental undertaking, one that has required your entire focus. Though, collectively we should have thought to put someone on her trail. She is strong and intelligent, we underestimated her."

Raina heard some kind of muttered comment on the other end of the phone and assumed her mother was trying to speak, but it was clear Sotza didn't want her to. Raina smirked. She could guess what Vee was saying about the woman who had targeted her daughter.

"I have Danny on home security until Angela is well enough to take over. For now, I’ll put twice the manpower on the mansion and a personal bodyguard on Raina." Raina shuddered at the reason for the extra security. She had come within seconds of death today. Mateo slid his hand up to the nape of her neck beneath her hair and squeezed, the gentle touch comforting. "Thomas will join me as I search for Desiree. We’ll leave no stone unturned this time. We won’t stop until she's been found."

"We can pool resources on our end," Sotza assured him. "You’re not alone in this. Keep our daughter safe and we’ll have your back."

They hung up and Mateo tossed his phone onto the side table. He leaned an elbow against his knee and rubbed a hand over his face, his exhaustion beating at him. Raina's heart melted. He was such a tough guy all the time, her gangster, but he was also vulnerable. As vulnerable as her in some ways.

She put a hand on his arm and squeezed. He looked at her over top of his fingertips.

She smiled tentatively. "I'm not afraid, you know. You'll make sure I'm safe. I have no doubt. But please, let me know if there's anything I can do to help you."

His eyes took on a strange gleam, one that she couldn't decipher. They seemed to convey a lot, at the same time as shutting her out. His body language was closed off, but she sensed he needed her, needed to reach out to her. She wished she knew more about relationships, and men, so she could give him what he clearly needed.

Finally, he spoke. "You are truly a treasure, mi amor. I have harmed you in a grievous way. Taking your dignity and using my lifestyle as an excuse. I have consistently put you in positions where you were vulnerable to attack. Yet still, you worry more about me than you do yourself."

Raina didn't know what to say. He wasn't wrong. If anyone else had done to her what he’d done, she would hate them. She would be actively trying to find a way out and pulling in every connection she had to make sure he was wiped off the planet. But he wasn't just anyone. He was Mateo. And no matter what he’d done to her, he still belonged to her, like she belonged to him.

Maybe theirs was a twisted relationship. Maybe she should run as far and as fast as she could get, but for now, she was going to follow her heart, which was running full tilt toward the man sitting next to her.

"Will you kiss me?" she whispered, her words shaky. She was so used to him taking what he wanted that it felt weird for her to ask for something intimate.

His entire demeanor seemed to change, to relax and loosen. At the same time, a predatory gleam entered his eyes as he turned to her, his big body hovering slightly over hers since they were sitting so close together.

He took her chin between his fingers and tilted it up. "Always," he said, his lips descending to hers.

The moment was sweet, a greeting of their souls after a long and hard day. A reconnection. She hesitantly lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck. He shuffled closer on the bed and pulled her body against his, deepening the kiss. They explored each other at a leisurely pace, gradually igniting the sparks that always hovered in the air around them.

Mateo lifted her off the bed and turned her until she was sitting on top of him, her knees on either side of his hips. He buried his hand at the back of her hair, clutching the strands. It hurt, but the pain felt good. It felt like the reaffirmation of life.

He broke the kiss and buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell so fucking good all the time. How do you smell so good?"

Raina giggled and buried her fingers in his soft hair, then ran her hand down the back of his neck. "I shower regularly, using soap and body wash. Then lotion after. Most of it’s non-scented."

"Mmmm, then it must be your natural scent."

Raina knew exactly what he was talking about since he also had a scent, one that she would recognize anywhere. The first time she smelled him, she'd been flat on her back on the university campus after attempting to fight him. The first time that he kidnapped her. She’d been breathing heavily and had inhaled his scent of leather, man and aftershave. It had immediately gone to her head, though she desperately fought the attraction. Who had a thing for their kidnapper? Stockholm wasn’t supposed to happen that fast.

Raina was beyond trying to understand her attraction to Mateo. He was a gangster and he did gangster things. He’d done terrible things to her since she'd met him, but the way he loved her, the way he held and protected her. It was more than she could resist. Besides, she wasn’t exactly innocent herself. She produced high-end forgeries, and though she was discerning in choosing her clientele, she often worked for criminals.

Mateo lifted her in his arms and twisted, dropping her on the bed on her back. He crouched over top of her, his muscular forearms on either side of her face. Raina reached up and clutched his wrist, her breath puffing out in a gasp. Her heart sped up in fear, a fear that he read in her eyes.

Mateo gently removed the strands of hair from her forehead. "I won’t hurt you. I promise. Please, let me do this."

Raina lay beneath him staring up at the ceiling above. If she let him have sex with her, was she giving him blanket permission to have sex with her anytime he wanted? She wasn't sure that’s what she wanted. After their first time… she'd been so hurt and confused. It would take time to get over that completely. In fact, if it hadn't been for the attack today, she wouldn't be remotely close to forgiving him.

Yet, her body cried out for his. Something primal was telling her that this man was her mate, her partner. Something was begging her not to reject him.

"Okay," she whispered. "But only this once. Because I need you. I'm not sure if this is what I want."

Mateo's eyes hardened for second as his alpha instincts told him not to allow her leeway. But she could see in his eyes that his humanity was winning out, his desire to have his future wife love him back as much as he loved her.

"Please," she begged.

"We'll talk about it later," he assured her. "For now, I want you to feel good. I want to take away all the fear and pain."

"I want that to," she whispered.

After that, they didn't speak again. They didn't need to. Their love language was touch and he touched her everywhere. Starting at her face, trailing his fingers over the delicate skin there; her forehead, her eyelids, nose, and lips. He followed the soft touches with his mouth, kissing everywhere he touched.

He tugged the camisole that Raina had been clutching to her chest away and tossed it on the floor. Then he buried his face in her neck and licked and sucked gently as he trailed kisses down to her breasts. Flutters of sensation were rippling through her body, stealing her breath and making her feel giddy with every touch. Mateo's attentions gradually turned from gentle to more urgent as he sucked one of her small breasts into his mouth, rolling her nipple.

Raina gasped and clutched his head to her, arching her back and pushing her breasts up. He lavished first one with attention, then the other. She could feel the wetness gathering at her thighs, soaking her panties beneath her sleep shorts.

Mateo worked his way downward but didn’t forget to worship every inch of her skin. His hands were everywhere, in places that his lips had been, igniting small explosions of yearning within her. Raina moaned her pleasure out loud, telling him exactly what she loved.

He dipped his tongue momentarily into her navel, causing her to gasp and lurch up in an attempt to shove him away. He grabbed her wrists and pushed her back onto the bed.

"You will take my kisses, no matter where I decide to place them." His words were possessive, but his tone was one of love.

He continued his path down, hooking his fingers into her panties and sleep shorts and dragging them down her thighs, exposing her. Raina dropped a hand between her legs, but he gently took it, flipped it over and pressed a kiss to her palm. Then he placed her hand on the bed next to her.

"You don’t need to be shy with me. Every part of you is my definition of beauty; from your nearsighted eyes, to the scars on your skin, to this pretty pink pussy, to these ridiculously small feet." He dropped his hand down her body as he spoke and finished by gripping her foot. She laughed and yanked her foot away. But her laughter fled as he pinned her with a look. "Every part of you is mine, every part of you is beautiful."

Raina blushed. He was so intense, it was difficult to know what to say or do. But he didn’t leave her hanging, he took control.

Mateo kissed her knees and then worked his way up her thighs, biting down gently on her flesh. Her breath sped up as he approached her pussy. She had to fight the urge to cover herself or to push his head away. She’d never done this before, what if she wasn't good at it?

And then she no longer had time to worry, because his face was buried between her legs and his tongue was exploring her most intimate parts. From the first touch of his tongue against her clit, Raina came unglued. How had she not known how fucking good oral sex was? Her education had been woefully neglected and if this wasn't a very awkward conversation to bring up, she'd be discussing this with her parents.

Raina could do nothing but clutch at the blankets underneath her and try to force her body to remain on the bed as she virtually levitated into Mateo's face. He gripped her hips and used his shoulders to force her legs wider as he ate her out. He lashed her with his tongue, drawing her out like a bowstring and then forcing her back before she could reach the edge. She was a mess of wiggling, wet, sweaty and begging woman. If this was what sex felt like, then she would become his willing slave.

Finally, Mateo lifted his head to pin her with a look. She blushed when she saw the glistening wetness of her fluids on his chin. "Now you come for me, mi amor."

He dipped his head back down and ran his tongue through her folds before concentrating on her clit. As he sucked and swirled, drawing her higher and higher towards a precious peak, he slid a finger into her body, penetrating her. That finger, combined with his magical tongue, sent her spiraling over the ledge.

She thought at first that she was screaming out loud, then realized most of the noise was in her own brain. Her mouth was wide open, whimpers spilling from her lips, her hands knotted so tightly in the blankets that her knuckles would ache later.

Her heart pounded as she drifted down from the most intensely explosive orgasm she'd ever experienced. She rolled her head to watch Mateo as he climbed off the bed. She reached out, intending to call him back, but then realized he was undressing. His movements were hurried but precise. Each item of clothing was tossed onto the chair until he stood completely, gloriously naked in front of her.

Mateo really was built using the marble of the gods. He was hard and muscular, but every proportion was perfect. Even his penis, which was erect and curving upward toward his belly from a nest of dark pubic hair.

As he climbed back on top of her, Raina clutched at his shoulders and dragged him down for a kiss, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. He kissed her back with equal passion, sliding an arm underneath her waist and lifting her up against his body. He entered her in one smooth thrust. It hurt more than Raina was expecting. After their first encounter, she didn't know what would happen, but had hoped it wouldn’t hurt again.

She knew she was wet enough to take him and didn't understand why it hurt. She whimpered and wiggled her body, trying to adjust. Mateo smoothed her hair back and said, his lips inches above hers, "It will only hurt for a few seconds, your body isn’t used to this and needs time to adjust. Lay still, soon you’ll feel good."

The pain was already beginning to fade, so she nodded and tried to relax underneath him. She lifted her knees experimentally tucking them high up against his waist in a way that felt natural. He kissed her lips and reached around to run his hand from her thigh to her knee, squeezing lightly as if to reward her.

When it became clear that Raina was no longer in pain, Mateo began to move within her, his body undulating on top of her in a rhythm that was beautiful to watch but hard to emulate. At first Raina felt clumsy, trying to lift her body to match his, but then she caught on, gradually becoming smoother with each thrust. She felt proud of herself, then the ecstasy took over.

His possession sent a storm of electricity, emotion and sensation rocketing through her. It was brutal, it was wonderful, and it was perfect. As they continued to rock together, Mateo's movements became more and more uneven, his thrusts harder as his hips slammed into hers. After a few minutes, Raina stopped trying to match his rhythm and clung to him, allowing him to slam her down into the bed over and over again. It felt incredible.

She flung her head back and dug her nails into his shoulders as another orgasm washed over her in a wave of pure pleasure. She rode the wave as he thrust into her one last time, shooting hot semen against the walls of her pussy. Even that felt incredible. The wetness, the heat, his mark.

45

It took a while before the mansion fell into a routine of new normal. Raina was not allowed to leave the premises without a full security detail, which now included her fiancé. At first, she balked at the restrictions, but then she'd seen the livid bruises on Angela's chest. Angela was the one to convince her to take the new security measures seriously.

"She killed your bodyguards and shot me as easily as if I was an annoying fly. She didn't pause. She didn't know me and she didn't care who I was. If she could do that to me, what will she do to you? Someone who she actually has a vendetta against. Don’t underestimate her, and don’t force Mateo to split his focus between a bratty wife, his Miami takeover and his hunt for Desi."

Though they stung, Angela's words sunk in. Raina still blamed herself for Angela's injuries, though Angela didn't look at it that way. Angela was doing her job, the job she was meant to do, and she was proud to be able to take bullets for Raina's sake.

To appease Angela, Raina would accept her near house arrest, learning to accept the new restrictions. Which, for her sanity, now included a more hands-on renovation of Mateo's office and taking on more forgery commissions. Raina busied buried herself in work so that she wouldn't have to think about what her fiancé and parents were doing in the city; ruthlessly bringing Miami under the control of Mateo and hunting for Desiree Navarro.

Vee and Sotza stopped by almost every day. They visited with Raina, updated Mateo and sometimes ate supper with them. Though Raina had a similar routine in Venezuela, she was now two years older and wiser. Life had changed even though the members dining at her table hadn't.

Eight days had passed since Raina and Angela had been attacked. Angela was back on her feet and engaging in her full duties, though she had grown even more protective of Raina and checked in on her often. Since the two women were rapidly becoming friends, Raina didn't mind. Angela gave her someone to vent to, someone who understood both sides of the equation; a person inside the mafia, but also a woman with wants and desires.

Angela understood and sympathized with many of Raina's frustrations, and Raina, in turn, attempted to give Angela an ear to bend if she needed one, though Angela was more tightlipped. Raina didn't know if it was her nature or her job, but she didn't often open up.

Raina and Angela were deep in the middle of one such conversation, when they were interrupted. "Okay, but have you ever actually tortured someone –?"

Angela was saved from answering Raina's gruesomely curious question when a sharp knock sounded at the door. Thomas stuck his head in. "There's someone at the gate, says he knows you."

Raina was surprised that Thomas hadn't turned away the visitor. The mansion was on lockdown and everyone relevant in the city knew it. The only people allowed to come and go were staff and family.

Angela jumped in. "Send him away; no visitors."

"He says he knows both Raina and Mateo and that they would want to see him immediately. He’s insistent that he won’t leave without an audience. His words, not mine. Mateo is in the city on business or I would bring this matter to him."

Angela frowned and Raina figured she was about to snap at Thomas, reiterating her earlier comment. Raina asked, "Did he give you a name?"

"Signore Giovanni Savino."

Raina leapt to her feet, her hand on her chest. Giovanni was there to see her! She grinned and exclaimed, "Let him in right away! I'll meet him in the main sitting room."

Thomas nodded and strode away. As Raina was leaving the room, Angela stopped her. "Mateo won't like this. No strangers in the mansion, no exceptions."

Raina waved her hand dismissively. "Giovanni isn’t a stranger, he's practically like a godfather to me." Raina smirked at her inside joke. Giovanni was the Italian Godfather.

As she was leaving the office, out of the corner of her eye she saw Angela get on the phone. No doubt about it, Angela was calling the boss. As close as Angela and Raina had come, Angela's first loyalty would always be to Mateo.

Raina waited excitedly for Giovanni in the sitting room and grinned broadly as he was shown in by Thomas. "Giovanni!" Raina rushed to greet him, stepping into his embrace.

His arms tightened around her and squeezed for a moment before he set her away from him. He looked her over, his lips curving in a smile. "As beautiful as ever, bella. Domesticity suits you. I am now less sad that you were picked up and brought to this place against your will."

She shrugged, hooking her arm in his and escorting him to the sofa. She sank down onto a chair across from him. "It wasn't exactly against my will. I've known for a while that I would be marrying Mateo, and I enjoyed two years of freedom before he picked me up."

He watched her, his expression musing. He was wearing an impeccably tailored suit, dark, but with flare. In his pocket was a crimson red handkerchief and a set of diamond studded cuff links adorned on each wrist.

"The answer of a dutiful mob wife." Though his words were mild, the meaning was not. Raina understood that this was an opportunity for her to leave if she wanted to. Giovanni was checking on her and if he didn't like what he heard, he was willing to help her get out of there. She knew it was a lot to read into one sentence, but she had connected with Giovanni in Italy. They were two vastly different but kindred spirits.

She reached out, indicating that she wanted his hand. He took hers and allowed her to squeeze him. "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea what it means to have an ally like you. You graciously accepted me into your home, you protected me and then you helped me escape. All this because I am the daughter of a business associate."

Giovanni nodded gravely and squeezed her back. "I did not only do these things because of who your father is, but because of who you are. You remind me very much of my deceased wife."

Raina beamed at him. "Thank you, Giovanni."

Giovanni nodded decisively, released her hand and settled himself back in the chair. He looked around the room. "A very nice place you have here. Perhaps I should take your lead and do something with my monstrosity."

Raina grinned. "I’m more than happy to give you the name and number of my interior decorator… the nice one. I'm sure he would love a trip to Italy, especially if expenses are paid."

The two spoke on a variety of subjects including the mansion renovations and Raina's up-and-coming forgery business. They spoke as though they had been friends for many years, though they hadn't actually known each other very long. Their friendship traversed age, station, and an ocean.

They had been talking for about twenty minutes, sipping on cups of tea that Raina requested from Lydia, when Mateo and several armed men strode into the room. Mateo's face could have rivaled a thundercloud as he marched over to Raina, jerked her out of her chair, ignoring the clattering of her teacup and the splash of hot liquid as it hit the floor and shoved her behind him.

He pointed at Giovanni. "Start talking or I will have you questioned in my bunker and then removed from the grounds in pieces."

Raina tried to protest but Mateo grabbed her wrist and held tightly, a subtle threat. Raina bit her lip. She wanted to give him a shove right between the shoulder blades but decided to wait and see if the boys could work it out for themselves.

Giovanni stood and stretched lazily, arranging his suit jacket so that it sat perfectly on his tall lean frame. "I’ve come for a visit. The young lady standing behind you invited me when she was in Italy and I thought it would be rude not to accept. If I'm not welcome, then I will leave. I don’t wish any harm upon your family."

"I don't believe you," Mateo growled.

Raina felt the tension thrumming through his body. She believed he really was ready to shoot Giovanni for arriving unannounced on their doorstep. Once again Raina wanted to intervene, explain that Giovanni was telling the truth and she invited the man for a visit. But Giovanni jumped in before she could speak.

"Of course, I can understand why you would think I mean you harm. You beat my son to within an inch of his life and threatened to kill him if he so much as sniffed near this continent. Any father might be upset by this. But I can assure you, I am not." Giovanni's voice was serious, as though he badly wanted them to believe him. "You did what I would have had to do, only you left him alive. Antonio betrayed me and that betrayal required a response. Though he is my only child, I would have had to beat him or worse, to send a message to the Cosa Nostra. Any challenges to my authority will not be tolerated. You saved me having to do something very painful."

“I took two of his fingers as a trophy. You condone this action against your own progeny?” Mateo’s bald words were meant to prod the older man into an emotional response. It worked on Raina who flinched, but Giovanni continued to look bland.

“We both know that Antonio got off light.” Giovanni’s voice was hard with censure. “I love my son, but he deserved whatever you chose to do to him.”

“You attempted to distract me while your son’s men surrounded my hotel suite.”

“Wouldn’t you have done the same if your family was being threatened? As his boss, I condemned his actions and approved your presence in the city. As a father… I felt I had to do what I could to help him.” There was no doubting Giovanni’s earnestness.

Raina could feel the gradual loosening of Mateo's muscles as Giovanni spoke. Mateo believed the other man. Raina let out a sigh of relief, pulled her wrist from Mateo's grip, bent over and picked up the spilled teacup. She set it on a side table and then slipped around until she was standing at Mateo's side. She would much prefer a united front than cowering behind her fiancé.

"I meant to kill your son; I won’t lie. I beat him, I cut off his fingers in retaliation for harming my woman, then I shot him the way he had her shot." His words were cold and Raina felt his renewed anger as he spoke of her injury. "But as I pressed my pistol against his temple, I realized, I wanted him to remain alive. I wanted my threat hanging over his head every minute of every day. That was more satisfying than actually putting a bullet in his brain."

Giovanni looked grave and then nodded. "I appreciate your honesty. I thank you anyway for sparing his life. I can assure you he will not be a future problem. He’s been banished from Venice, his assets stripped away and his connections severed. He has nothing left but a legacy of idiocy that will follow him and his mangled hand. I’m having him watched at all times. I do this so that none of us will have to watch our backs when it comes to him."

Mateo stared at Giovanni; his brow wrinkled in a frown. "Your generosity surprises me. I would think you’d want to kill the man who mutilated your only child, but I understand you. I would feel the same if I was betrayed in such a way, no matter who was the betrayer."

The two men seemed to settle on a temporary truce. Raina pushed for Giovanni to be allowed to take their evening meal with them. Mateo grudgingly agreed and the three of them set about having a pleasant evening together with good food and even better conversation. Raina suspected Giovanni was somewhat lonely, isolated over in Italy, with no family and few friends that weren’t subordinates and business associates.

Raina begged Mateo to allow Giovanni to stay the night. At first, both men were hesitant, but Raina managed to win them over to the idea. She suspected Mateo was of the keep your-enemies-close camp while Giovanni was grateful not to have to search for accommodations in a tourist city.

Later, after Giovanni retired for the night, Mateo and Raina went upstairs to bed together. Mateo laid her down and set about telling her without words how much he worshipped her. She sighed happily and settled back on the bed, enjoying the embrace of her lover.

46

Over the course of the following week Raina thoroughly enjoyed her time with Giovanni. Even Mateo seemed to loosen up around the older charismatic gentleman. There was a certain joy in Giovanni that was tempered by his profession, the loss of his wife and the betrayal of his son.

While he was still a badass old-school mobster, he knew how to appreciate the world around him.

"You’ve given me a fresh perspective on life, revived this old man.” They were sitting together on the patio next to the pool enjoying a couple glasses of Long Island iced tea.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Not that old.”

He looked at her knowingly. “I have more than thirty years on you, bella.”

"Okay, but I wouldn’t call you an old man. You have more energy than most of us and you seemed pretty content hanging out at Banditos, lording it over all the peasants. All I did was bring a boatload of trouble to your doorstep, show you what a douchebag your son is and then bring Mateo down on you. It's a miracle you didn't decide I was more disposable." Raina took a long sip of her drink and then guiltily glanced around for Mateo.

He would be furious if he knew she was drinking alcohol. Of course, Raina knew exactly how much her body could take, but that didn't stop Mateo from worrying over every little thing.

Giovanni was sprawled out in a patio chair, his finger tapping against the edge of his own glass. "Had you been anyone else, you would have been far more disposable," he admitted.

Raina swallowed hard imagining how close to death she had come at this Italian mobster's fingertips. "Because of who my stepfather is."

He shook his head. "While Sotza is certainly capable of making my life uncomfortable, your affiliation with him would not have swayed me. No, you have only yourself to thank. You are a remarkable young lady. You fearlessly travel the world while building a client base among elite members of the underworld. Your activities are criminal, yet you have an impeccable moral compass. This is something I have always strived for myself; finding that balance between being a decent human being while fulfilling my duties as a kingpin."

“You were born to the mob?” she asked. “Like me, you didn’t have a choice?”

“Yes, that is correct. My father ran the Savino family empire before me, and his father before him. We have a long and proud heritage. It’s not always such a burden. There are many perks to being master of my universe.” He looked at Raina shrewdly. “Do you not find the perks in such luxurious living?”

Raina wanted to deny that the money, prestige and open doors had anything to do with her ease in settling into the lifestyle, but truthfully, she couldn’t. “Okay, you’re not wrong. I like the clothes, the big house, the pool. But it still bothers me that the tradeoff can come at a high cost. There are certain things that Mateo has to do for work and I have no choice but to look the other way. Sometimes, it terrifies me how easily I've fallen for him. Do my morals mean nothing in the face of my feelings for him?"

Giovanni smiled knowingly and took a long sip of his drink. "My wife was much the same way. She despised what I did for work, but she loved me wholeheartedly and unconditionally. She had no choice but to settle into the life, she understood that there's only one way to leave the mafia. In a coffin."

"Did she find a way to live with it, to live with the things she knew you had to do?" Raina leaned forward against the table, completely invested in his answer.

Giovanni shrugged. "I don't think she ever quite reconciled herself to the life, and part of me believes that it may have led to an early death for her. But she supported me in most everything I did."

Raina smiled sadly and nodded. "Thank you for telling me, I feel better knowing that you were in a similar situation to ours. I love Mateo and I want to support him, but I don't always agree with his decisions."

Giovanni leaned across the table and clasped her hand in his. "You don’t have to agree with him. My wife often disagreed with my actions, but I never lost an ounce of love for her. In fact, having her opinion helped ground me in the real world, kept me from being sucked into the vacuum of complete lawlessness that could too easily lead down a path of no redemption."

Raina spent the afternoon thinking over Giovanni’s words and that night when Mateo came home, she walked up to him in the lobby of their mansion and hugged him. He was late, having missed their supper meal. She didn’t comment though. The tension vibrating through his body told her he probably had a long and tough day. She simply hugged him tight, pressing herself against his body and laying her head over his heart.

Mateo dropped the leather folder he was holding, ignoring it as it hit the floor and papers slipped out. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close against him, dropping his face to her head and inhaling the scent of her hair. It was such a private moment that gradually the men that had come in with Mateo drifted away, leaving the couple in a bubble of their own.

Mateo pulled back enough so that he could look down at her face. "What's this all about? Everything okay?"

She nodded and smiled up at him. "I… I guess I just wanted to say hello." She felt suddenly shy, like she didn't know what to say to him. But this is what Mateo did to her. He sent her libido into overdrive which erased every sane thought in her head.

"Well, you can say hi to me anytime you want."

This was one of the things that she adored about him. Mateo loved Raina without question, without exception. Though he had strict rules when it came to her health and safety, he was quick to give her anything else she desired, including access to him and his body. He was completely invested in their relationship and despite some of his more questionable actions, Raina's heart belonged to him. Right or wrong, she would follow him into hell. Just the same as he would follow her.

"Are you hungry?" she asked him, tilting her head up to see his face.

"Yes." His answer came out in an emphatic growl.

Raina started to turn away from him. "Your supper is warming in the oven. I had Lydia make a plate for you. Is that okay?"

He grabbed her arm and swung her back around into his chest. "No, it's not okay. It's not food I want right now."

"Oh." She blushed, but she didn't have time to respond. Mateo picked her up, holding her close against his chest as he strode up the stairs, taking them two at a time in a dizzying pace.

He shoved their bedroom door open and then booted it shut. He dropped Raina onto the mattress and then came down on top of her. They both laughed as his heavy weight landed on her, knocking the breath out of her.

She looped her arms around his neck and looked up at him. "You know I love you, right? Sometimes you make me crazy, but the loving never stops."

He framed her face with his hands and gazed down at her, his dark eyes melting to a deep chocolate. "I have waited years to hear these words from you. You are mi amor. Only you, always you." He lifted her hand and pressed her palm against his chest over his heart. "This organ beats for you alone. The day that I lose you is the same day that I leave this earth in the hope that I will find you in the hereafter."

Tears sparked in Raina's eyes as he spoke. She hadn't expected a declaration like this, but she believed him. She believed every word. Mateo didn't lie. He was the definition of intense brooding honesty.

She was saved from having to pull words from a brain gone silly with love and hope. His head descended to hers and he took her lips in a heated kiss.

They removed their clothes in an awkward twisting of limbs and fingers while trying to maintain their kiss. Raina grinned broadly and laughed into his mouth as he tried to tug her shirt over her head but got a button caught in her hair. Without breaking the kiss he tried to untangle the button without tugging too much at her scalp.

"For fuck’s sakes, why do women's clothes have so many buttons and zippers and stuff?" He broke the kiss so he could examine what was going on with her hair.

Raina laughed at him and slid her hands between their bodies to work on his belt buckle. He lifted his hips giving her some room, but the raging hard on pressing against his zipper made it more difficult to get everything undone.

Finally, Mateo made the adult decision that they should stand up and remove everything, then start over. They laughed like teenagers as they tugged clothes off and hopped around on one foot trying to drag socks off their feet. It was ridiculous and it was hilarious, but it was also sexy. Raina's breath shortened as his body was revealed to her.

Mateo had always had a hard body, rippling with lean slabs of muscle. But lately, he’d been amping up his workouts. The muscles in his arms and thighs popped out bigger than ever and his stomach was so tight she actually wanted to try bouncing a quarter off it. She believed the workouts helped him with the stress of his Miami takeover.

It felt good to see him grinning at her. It made him look younger, closer to her age than the fifteen years that separated them. When he grinned with happiness, he looked like a beautiful boyish charmer to her.

When they were finally naked, he reached for her. She flung herself into his arms and gave a hop. He caught her and lifted her against his body helping her wrap her legs around his waist. He fell backwards on the bed, Raina landing on top of him.

She pressed her hands against his pectoral muscles and leaned over to kiss him, her blond hair creating a soft halo around them, cutting the world off as their kiss deepened and they lost themselves in physical sensation.

Raina tried to roll off Mateo so he could climb on top of her, but he caught her by the hips and held her still. He broke their kiss and said, "I want you to stay on top. I want you to fuck me, to take your pleasure from my body."

She bit her lip and looked down at him, thinking about it. Her voice was breathless when she replied, "But I don't know what I'm doing. We've only done this a couple times. What if I screw up?"

He held her face above his, her hair still swirling around them. "You can't screw up. I will never let that happen. I was born to worship you, just as you were born to belong to me. Whatever comes our way, we will always deal with it together."

Raina's heart nearly burst from her chest. She knew he was talking about more than her being on top during sex. He was talking about the rest of their lives. His words were so beautiful, so romantic. She wanted to hold him close to her heart and never let go.

She nodded, comfortable now that Mateo wouldn't let her screw up a new sex position. He would guide her, and he would catch her if she fell.

"Lift yourself up on your knees." He wrapped his hands around her waist and helped her. "Now reach between us and place my cock at your entrance. Don't worry, you can do it."

Raina blushed at his instructions, but she reached down between their bodies and grasped him in her hand. Though he was hard as rock, his skin was softer than she thought he would be. This was her first time touching him there. She took an extra few seconds to ran run her hand up and down the shaft and then swirled her thumb over the tip.

It took some maneuvering but finally she was able to press the velvety tip of his cock against the entrance of her pussy. He held her above him until she was ready, then he said, "Now lower yourself slowly. I'll help you."

Inch by inch, Raina lowered herself onto his cock, impaling herself. At first, the sensations were wonderful, sparking pleasure throughout her pussy. But as she continued filling herself with his rigid penis, the pressure became uncomfortable.

It was a strain for Mateo to lay still, she could tell from the look on his face. But he was patient with her, allowing her to take him in her own time. And she did. It probably took her minutes before she was fully seated on top of him and several more minutes before the pain receded and she was ready to start moving.

At first, she had a difficult time finding a rhythm; she felt awkward wiggling her hips and moving around on top of him. After a while though, she realized that simply rocking back and forth sent incredible sparks of pleasure rushing through her. He groaned, indicating that he was also enjoying what she was doing. She loved that she could see his face, that she could control how much of him she took. She could control the rhythm, the speed, everything. She felt powerful.

"Touch yourself." She almost missed what he said, between the gruffness of his voice and being lost to her own pleasure. She stared down at him, not moving.

Mateo took her hand and curled her fingers until three of them were against her palm. Then he took her forefinger and her middle finger and pressed them to her pussy, over top of her clit. She gasped as he increased the pressure, helping her masturbate herself. The sensation stole her breath. It was more incredible than anything she'd experienced before. His hand on hers, her touching herself, her on top rocking back and forth. It was almost too much, but not enough.

Lost to the world around her, Raina flung her head back and arched her back, closing her eyes. She continued her rhythm, climbing higher and higher towards her favourite peak, the one just out of reach but so worth the pain of getting there. Finally, when she thought she could take no more, when she was positive that she was about to lose her rhythm, Mateo pressed her fingers hard against her, pressing her clit against her pubic bone.

“Come for me,” he whispered up at her.

A kaleidoscope of colours shot past Raina's closed eyelids, sending fireworks through her head and frying every thinking brain cell she had left.

Raina was so lost in her own pleasure that she stopped moving on top of Mateo, which she guessed didn't work for him since he took hold of her hips and began moving her himself. He pushed her hips back and forth, forcing her down on his cock and then back up again, over and over until she could feel him flaring wide inside her.

She gasped, clinging to his shoulders. She was so much more full when she was on top of him that she didn't know if she could take it. She leaned forward against his chest, digging her fingernails into the flesh as he flung his head back, pressing it into the mattress and grunting his pleasure as he spurted his seed up inside her.

Raina collapsed on top of him, grateful that he was big enough to take her weight without complaint. They lay that way for several long minutes, completely spent, completely satiated.

Raina definitely wanted to try that position again. And again. And again. She didn't think she would ever get enough of being on top. Being in control.

As she had that thought, Mateo flipped her over onto her back and crawled on top of her, pressing kisses all over her face, neck, and chest until she was laughing hysterically and shoving him over onto his side of the bed.

47

Mateo’s and Raina's truce didn’t last long. If Raina was being honest with herself, she would admit that they’d probably never have a completely contention free relationship. Although this time, their difference in opinion was monumental, one she didn't think she would be able to overcome. In the course of twenty-four hours she had discovered that she was more in love that she could ever imagine, then she was sent spiraling into despair with only a few words from her fiancé.

It happened the following morning, after a night filled with sex, laughter, and the occasional bout of sleep. Raina had woken up feeling completely satisfied, totally in love and ready to greet the world with her happiness. She stretched and reached over to Mateo’s side of the bed, not really expecting him to be there.

She was surprised when her hand landed on hard hot flesh. Her eyes popped open and she rolled her head to the side, looking at him. Mateo was looking back at her, his beautiful eyes expressing love though his face had fallen into its familiar granite lines.

She understood. He would have to go back to work in a few minutes, remove himself from their bubble and face the underground world that he was challenging.

"Good morning." She smothered a yawn against his shoulder.

He smoothed the hair off her forehead and leaned over to kiss her. "Good morning, mi amor. You were sleeping soundly, and I didn't have the heart to either slip away or wake you."

"So you decided to watch me instead. That's creepy you know, watching a person sleep." She said it with a grin and pushed herself up, rolling toward the edge of the bed.

"It's not creepy if you’re fucking the person."

Raina laughed as she made a beeline for the bathroom, shoving the door shut. She quickly relieved her screaming bladder, washed her hands and then ran back to the bed, hurtling herself on top of him. He caught her with a grunt and held her in place, her body sprawled out on top of his.

They lay that way for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of a nice long hug. Finally, Mateo set her aside, tucked the blanket around her legs and got off the bed to get dressed. She realized he was staying home when he pulled on a pair of gym shorts, a T-shirt, socks and running shoes. He was going into the yard to work out.

Not wanting to end her time with him, Raina asked, "Want help with a sparring session?"

He shook his head. "I need to work out hard this morning. Got to keep my skills at peak levels in case anyone decides to challenge my takeover."

Raina was hurt by his words. Obviously, he wasn't feeling the desperate need to spend more time with her, the way she wanted to be with him. She mumbled defensively, "I can spar pretty hard. You don't have to go easy on me."

He looked down at her and when she refused to lift her eyes, he tilted her chin. He wanted her to see how serious he was. "You will never be required, nor will you be allowed, to ever spar as hard as me. Not even as hard as Angela. That isn't your role here. You are my wife, keeper of my heart and my home. Though I want you to have some defensive skills, I won't allow your fragile body to become exhausted by the work."

Raina wanted to argue that she wished he thought of that weeks ago on the night he woke her up from her bed and dragged her into the yard to torture her with a brutal sparring session. But she knew that would be petty. He'd been upset, out of his mind over worry for her. This was different.

However, despite her understanding the difference, she didn't agree. "I'm not some delicate flower, Mateo. I can take a solid beating if I need to. You don't have to go easy on me all the time. I'm not going to up and die on you."

The last traces of softness left his eyes, leaving behind the awful blankness. She hated it.

"You will not die because I won’t let you. This is not up for discussion. You’ll never be placed in a position where you’re forced to give more than you can take. I won’t allow it."

"So all I'm good for is setting up your home, organizing your meals and laundry and having your babies?" she demanded. As much as she enjoyed feeling protected by him, she also felt stifled by his overprotection.

"No babies." The two words were said without inflection. At first, Raina didn't understand.

"What do you mean ‘no babies’." She let out a humourless laugh. "So far I haven't noticed us using any protection. And I'm guessing you would've mentioned it by now if you wanted us to be using it. I assumed you wanted babies."

Mateo stepped away from the bed, putting distance between them. "It's not about wanting babies, but about having them. We won’t be having any."

Raina frowned, attempting to understand his words. She really hoped he wasn't thinking what she thought he was thinking. The man was unbelievable. He wanted to control every aspect of her life, especially her health. But she was going to go out of her mind if he suddenly decided that she couldn't have babies simply because she’d had a kidney transplant when she was twelve years old.

"Is this about me? You don't think that I can have a baby?" she asked incredulously. "Have you done any research? Plenty of women who've had transplants go on to have perfectly healthy babies."

"I’ve done my research and I have determined that your health is not worth the risk."

Raina's mouth fell open. This really was about her. And this was a really serious conversation. Perhaps one that they shouldn't be having while she was still in bed naked. Raina climbed off the bed and reached for her bathrobe dragging it over her nude body and belting it tightly. She turned to face him, giving him the full wrath of her glare.

"You do not get to make this decision alone," she said furiously pointing at him. "This is my body. I’ve always intended to become a mother and if you think you’re going to stop me, then you're going to have one hell of a fight on your hands."

He continued to stare at her without expression though she wanted to believe that there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I was afraid you would think this way."

She threw her hands up in the air. "A lot of women want babies. Of course, it's natural for me to want one too. When I was a child, my parents made sure to ask all the right questions. We were told that I should be able to carry a baby to term without a problem."

"But there would be a strain on your body. You only have one kidney and you’re still required to take immunosuppressants to make sure your body doesn’t reject the kidney, which means your health is always at risk. Even the flu can become deadly for someone like you. I won’t allow you to take that risk. It’s too great. I won’t allow your life to be shortened by even one day if I can do anything to help it."

Raina was too angry at him to absorb the sheer magnitude of what he was saying, what he was willing to do for her.

"That isn't your decision to make alone. We either make it together, our I will make it by myself."

"No, you won't." His voice was calm, but there was a thread of steel underlying it.

"And how exactly do you intend to stop nature?” she demanded sarcastically. "We haven't exactly been practicing safe sex. I could be pregnant already. What do you intend to do, have me abort the baby? I’ll tell you right now, that’s not going to happen. Or if you plan on forcing protection for the rest of my life, I'll go find the nearest fertility clinic."

Finally, he showed her a glimpse of anger, his eyes narrowing and his lips tightening. "You’re not pregnant and I will not be getting you pregnant. Nor will you be seeking out any fertility clinics. You won’t enjoy the consequences if I find you sniffing around one of those places, either now or in the future."

Raina huffed out a breath, rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't see how you intend to stop me from getting pregnant. We’ve had sex at least a dozen times now. In my estimation, given the time of month, I could easily be pregnant."

"No, you can't." His voice was so positive that it finally dawned on her that he knew something she didn't.

"Why do you sound so sure?"

He looked as though he didn't want to speak, as though he didn't want to devastate her with his words. Then he seemed to harden himself to her feelings and said, "Two years ago, after you left Venezuela and I realized that you were the only woman I would marry, I had a vasectomy. Even then I realized that it wouldn’t be possible for you to carry my child."

Raina was so stunned that she took several steps back, groping behind her for the chair and then collapsing into it. A vasectomy. She hadn't seen that coming. She didn't know of many men that would choose to have one at Mateo’s age. Especially a man that hadn’t fathered any children. She’d assumed he would want children.

Then it hit her. He wanted her more than he wanted a child of his own flesh and blood. This thought hammered home exactly how obsessed with her he had become.

Yet, despite his sacrifice, Raina wasn’t ready to process the heartbreak this meant for herself. Mateo would never let her go, would never allow her to seek out the opportunity of having a baby. He loved her too much. And if she was being honest with herself, she loved him too much to leave. But the truth that he just laid on her was shattering.

"I'll never have a baby." She looked up at him, tears shimmering in her eyes, catching a glimpse of his own grief before he shuttered the emotion.

Mateo kneeled at her feet, lifted her hand and kissed the palm. Wordlessly he stood, gave her a long look and then left the room.

48

Raina wandered listlessly through the mansion unsure of what to do with herself. She wasn't sure if she was in a state of shock, acceptance, grief, or anger. She thought probably shock since she couldn't seem to process her feelings.

After Mateo left, Raina had stayed in the bedroom in an attempt to avoid him. She tried to busy herself with his latest romance novel, Christina Dodd’s The Prince Kidnaps a Bride, but she couldn't seem to settle into it. After a few hours of pacing the room, taking the longest shower of her life, and spending extra time on her hair, makeup and clothes, Raina figured enough time had passed that she could leave the bedroom. She walked down to the kitchen and stood staring at their fully stocked refrigerator for nearly ten minutes before deciding that she wasn't hungry.

Raina wandered the house and the grounds and then she went in search of Giovanni. He wasn't the one she wanted to discuss her problem with, but he was a houseguest and someone deserving respect, it was her job to make sure he was comfortable and happy in her home.

But when she found Angela sitting in her office, Raina discovered that Giovanni had left for the day. Apparently, he and Sotza had set up a meet and were going to discuss some transatlantic trade. Raina stood looking at Angela for a few uncomfortable minutes. Though she didn't know who was uncomfortable with those minutes, Angela seemed unflappable and Raina was too much in shock to feel anything. She considered unburdening on Angela but decided that their friendship was still at a vulnerable stage, not the cry-all-over, trash-talk-the-bad-boyfriend and eat-a bucket-of-ice-cream-together stage.

Raina closed the door to the office and left Angela to herself. She decided to try and work for a couple of hours. She sat down at her desk and pulled out the proofs for a set of fake passports under the name Kevin Glad. Of course, that wasn't the man's real name. "Kevin" needed fake passports for Australia, South Africa and the Senegal.

Raina had been curious when he commissioned her and had done some digging on the dark web. She discovered that her new client was wanted for trafficking women and children. Raina judged him. She judged him big time. She also made the decision to risk her reputation by giving him detectable papers. Meaning, he would be stopped the second he tried to enter a country with his fake passports. He would be extradited to his home country and put on trial.

Raina hoped there would be no damage to her reputation, but she knew in her heart that she would never be able to allow a man like “Kevin” free and easy movement throughout the world. She was going to put a stop to his activities, even if she had to do it single-handedly.

Working on the passports helped ease Raina's mind. She became so absorbed in her art that she didn't have the capacity left over to dwell on a future that had become suddenly more bleak. After a few hours she finished up the commission and set the freshly done passports aside.

"Now what?" she asked the empty room with a miserable sigh.

It was now two o'clock in the afternoon. She should be hungry, but she didn't think she could stomach food quite yet. Raina had always been an emotional eater. But she was also an emotional non-eater. When she felt anxious or depressed, she wanted all the food everywhere. But when she felt like this, like there was a gaping hole in her chest, she couldn't touch her meals.

Raina only felt this way twice before. Once, when she was a child and she found out that her kidney failure had become so acute that she'd have to have a transplant. The second time was when she was around fourteen and found information that confirmed she was adopted. At the time she had thought that her birth mother had abandoned her. She hadn't understood why Elvira had given her up and Raina fallen into a deep pit of angry despair.

Yeah, that was exactly how she felt. Angry despair. She was angry because her fiancé had made a monumental decision about their mutual future without consulting her. And she felt despair because she knew that despite the steps he took to ensure she would never have his child, she still loved him too deeply to contemplate leaving him. So, she was left with this deep aching hurt inside. A hurt that she didn't know how to get rid of.

Finally, Raina decided that she needed to do the healthy thing and contact someone who could talk her through the feelings. Someone who could give her the comfort she needed during these dark hours until she could reconcile herself to the idea of never having a baby.

Raina called Vee, but her birth mother had been distracted and cool on the phone. Apparently, she had been part of the meeting with Sotza and Giovanni and was anxious to get back to it.

"You can adopt, sweetie," Vee said, somewhat impatiently. "I understand that this was a shock. But Mateo is not wrong. Your body is delicate and fragile, we don't know that it can take the stress of birth."

"That isn’t the point!" Raina growled her frustration. "He should have at least talked to me. It’s my body, I should be the one who decides. He can't make decisions like this for both of us."

Vee sighed deeply. "Raina, I sympathize, but you need to face reality. You’re about to become a mob wife. Your duty is to your husband. As much as it galls me to say it, you will be expected to obey. You have a husband who adores you and will do anything for you. He’ll lay down his life for you. That's not something common in our world. Don't make any rash decisions without considering this. Mateo won't let you leave, but he can make your life miserable if you don't cooperate."

Raina felt like her mother refused to understand her point of view. Vee was speaking from her own life experience. She’d had deep trauma after the abuse she suffered at the hands of her first husband, Tony Montana. She’d risen up to become a fierce queen, but it was obvious that her inner scars were not yet healed.

Raina murmured her thanks for Vee's advice, said goodbye and ended the call. She took several deep breaths, swiped at her eyes and reminded herself that Vee loved her deeply and would always be on her side.

Then Raina made the even bigger mistake of calling Diane. She poured her heart out to her adoptive mother, even telling her about Vee's unsatisfactory reaction. Unfortunately, Diane’s emotions went in the complete opposite direction. She was devastated by the news, possibly even more so than Raina. She cried and mourned the loss of grandchildren. Finally, Diane calmed down enough to offer her small bit of advice.

"You can adopt," Diane said with a sniffle, a glimmer of hope in her voice. "Why didn't I think of that right away! We adopted you and look how wonderful that turned out? There's no reason why you can't do the same."

Raina shook her head. "Would you have adopted if you were still deeply entrenched in the Miami crime scene? Or would you have felt terrible about keeping a child who could have gotten adopted by perfectly normal parents, living a perfectly normal and safe life. Would you take that chance away from a baby? Bring them into a life where they could be hurt, or expected to become something like an enforcer? I don't think I can do it."

"Oh dear, I see what you mean." Diane started crying again.

Raina listened to her mother, attempting to comfort her.

Raina supposed having a baby would have the same outcome as adoption. She would be purposely bringing a child into a life filled with danger. But somehow, giving birth was different. As though if she gambled with the possibility of pregnancy, it was out of her hands when it actually happened. But that wasn't taking responsibility. No matter what, the idea of children growing up around organized crime was a murky one. Perhaps Mateo was right, maybe not about the vasectomy, but about not bringing babies into their world.

Raina decided to call her best friend. That was who she needed. A good dose of someone who would agree with her no matter what. Who would be angry and sad on her behalf. She would be happy on Raina's behalf too.

Whatever Raina needed; Cassie would give.

Raina tapped her contact and waited for her to pick up. At first Cassie had been livid on Raina’s behalf, calling Mateo every name in the book and threatening to march down to Miami to castrate him. Her wildly imaginative descriptions of what she would do to Mateo made Raina laugh out loud until she felt better. After a while Raina felt the need to defend Mateo. Then, Cassie switched gears into ‘let's fix this’ mode.

"I understand your reasons for not wanting to adopt, but what about having a surrogate baby? I'm sure it's not something you've thought of, but you should. Then you can have one of your own without putting strain on your body and leave the moral decisions behind." Cassie sounded proud of her ability to find a compromise.

Raina laughed. "And who exactly is the surrogate supposed to be? Do I post an ad on Facebook for one? How would that even work?"

There was silence on the other end of the line, stretched until it became awkward. Raina wondered if she'd missed something. Finally, Cassie said in a serious voice, "Me, of course. I would never allow you to accept a baby from anyone else. Not when I'm perfectly healthy and willing. It would be an honour to create such a precious gift for you."

Raina was floored by Cassie's suggestion. She'd known that her best friend was a wonderfully unselfish person, but Raina didn't think she'd ever given Cassie the real credit she deserved. This was beyond anything she could've imagined.

Raina wanted to argue, wanted to talk Cassie out of it, but in the face of such a heartfelt gift, even if it turned out to be a thought and not a reality, Raina could only say one thing. "Thank you. I wish I could hug you so tight right now. You are the best person I know."

Cassie was sniffling on the other end of the phone. "I feel the same about you. You're my person, Raina. No matter what happens, you will always be my person."

They remained silent for a minute and finally Raina took a deep breath and said, "This is way too heavy for a couple of twenty-one-year-old girls that should be enjoying spring break on a beach."

Cassie burst out laughing. "Spring break was a month ago. You're such a drop out."

49

Mateo smiled tightly as Sotza strode toward him. Sotza clapped him on the back. "Good to see you, my boy."

It wasn't often that Sotza became even remotely effusive with his affection, but it had been months since the two men had seen each other. Sotza had recruited Mateo when he was a young teen. Until he went hunting for Garza and then over to Italy, Mateo had never spent more than a few weeks at a time away from the Sotza compound. Over the years, Sotza had become a father figure to him.

Since Sotza's arrival in Miami, he and his wife had been busy hunting the elusive Desi. Mateo had been otherwise occupied with his Miami takeover. The two men decided it was high time they meet.

They agreed on one of the clubs that Mateo was inheriting in his takeover. It was big, flashy, gaudy, everything Mateo despised. He was not a club man, nor would he ever be. Unless Sotza ordered him to hang onto the clubs, they would be the first thing he would sell off. He'd invest the money in a series of restaurants where it would be less of a headache to move illegitimate money.

"This place brings back memories." Sotza glanced around the cub as they made their way to a back booth, both sliding in to take a seat.

"Yeah? Been here before?" Mateo didn't really care, but his boss was one of the few people he was willing to put in lip service for.

Sotza gave him a shrewd look. Sotza knew of Mateo’s antisocial tendencies but appreciated the effort. "This is where I first met my wife. She walked in that door," he pointed at the front entrance, flooded with Miami sunlight. "She had two bodyguards flanking her. She walked right up to me as though she owned the world and looked down her long nose like I was lower than the gum she might scrape off her high heel."

Mateo snorted his amusement. "Like mother, like daughter. Sounds like the look Raina gives me when she's pissed off."

"And have you managed to piss off my stepdaughter?" The question was casual, but Mateo could sense an underlying curiosity. Though Sotza was old school in many ways, he wouldn’t force a merger if he didn’t think the couple was happy.

Mateo appreciated the position that Sotza was in now. He was stepfather and protector to his wife's grown daughter. He also held a genuine affection for the girl. Yet, he had watched Mateo grow up and flourish under his regime. Though they never spoke the words, Mateo was aware that Sotza held great love for him. Mateo felt the same for his boss. He loved and respected Isaac Sotza. There wasn't much he wouldn't do for the man.

"I would guess that she gets mad at me about as often as your wife gets mad at you," Mateo said with some amusement.

Sotza raised an eyebrow. "So it hasn't been a cakewalk then?"

"I wouldn't want her half as much if she acted any other way. That attitude is gold to a man like me. She's a fighter. If she didn't put up a fight once in a while, I'd wonder what was wrong. I'm not an easy man to deal with, and there are times I'm hell on her. She balks at the constant restrictions, but she understands the why of it."

Sotza nodded and waved over a server who hovered nearby. Both men ordered a drink and then lapsed into silence. Sotza was the first one to break it. "Sounds like I don't have anything to worry about. You'll take good care of her."

"Nothing else matters more to me than Raina." Though his words were meant to reassure Sotza, they were also the boiled-down truth. Nothing did matter to him more than Raina. She had become his entire world from the moment she confronted him on the campus when he kidnapped her. She had fought him like a wildcat, until he’d been forced to take her down to the ground and subdue her. The moment had been both illuminating and breathtaking. He had looked down at her face, screwed up in anger, her glasses askew. His lonely heart had found its mate and from that moment onward, beat for two.

"I believe this to be true." Sotza gave his blessing.

Two years ago, after Mateo kidnapped Raina and took her back to Venezuela to live with her parents, Mateo had gone to Sotza. He had asked his mentor to give Raina to him. Sotza had been taken aback by the question. Mateo didn’t speak of his personal life, let alone ever mention wanting a woman. Sotza had even admitted to wondering about Mateo’s sexuality. Mateo hadn’t taken offence, as up to that point he had kept any liaisons both simple and brief. If he met a woman he wanted physically, he fucked her and then he walked away. He rarely went back twice.

But Raina had changed that. It was as though his body and soul had lain dormant until her arrival. The sight of her, her scent, her sass, everything about her had instantly locked him down. Until then, Mateo had scorned the idea of love at first sight. Now, he knew it to be true.

Sotza had agreed to Mateo's request, but on one condition. "You give her time. She's young, still a teenager. She isn't used to our world or used to men like you. She grew up in a loving household with good solid values. Her time here has been a shock. I believe, given more time, she will come around to appreciating our world; appreciating the opportunities the organization can provide. She was born for this. I have no doubt that when her day comes, she will shine."

While the rational part of Mateo agreed with Sotza, his heart screamed at him to take the woman and consequences be damned. It had taken every ounce of strength not to leave that office and hunt Raina down, take her back to his place and stake his claim. Instead, he had calmly asked, "How long?"

"As long as it takes." Sotza's words had been uncompromising and Mateo had made the decision to step back and give Raina the time that her stepfather requested. He reminded himself that he was doing it for her.

His gamble paid off. He now had Raina, they’d each declared their love and were planning their wedding. Even though she was pissed at him about the vasectomy, he had no doubt that once the storm passed, they would find their way back to each other. She was too generous and compassionate not to forgive him. Especially, since he’d done it with her in mind.

The thought of getting a vasectomy had not once crossed Mateo's mind until he had researched Raina's condition. As soon as the realization hit him that giving birth could cause physical damage to his future wife, he made the decision without a second thought. He checked himself into the hospital and voluntarily elected to have a vasectomy. The doctor had frowned at him, asked him if he had children and tried to dissuade him, given Mateo's age at the time. He’d been thirty-four, healthy and virile.

But Mateo didn't give a shit about that. All he cared about was Raina and that she have a long and healthy life. If she had to do that without children, then so be it.

In an effort to divert the course of their conversation, Mateo said, "You met our guest, Giovanni Savino?"

Sotza took a long sip of his drink, then set it down on the table and looked at Mateo, an amused glint in his dark eyes. "An interesting man. He wants the world to believe he’s an enthusiastic eccentric, but I believe he uses this flamboyance to lure people into a sense of complacency. I’ve heard rumours of his brutality. He’s not the kind-hearted gentleman he makes himself out to be."

Mateo agreed with Sotza’s assessment. “He wants us to think he’s harmless, but his position suggests he’s anything but harmless. Though I do think he feels genuine affection for Raina. You had a lucrative meeting?"

Sotza gave a short nod. "It was illuminating. We’ve become complacent over here in the Americas; we don't pay enough attention to what's happening across the ocean. Though Italy has an old and steeped tradition in the Cosa Nostra, I believe that Giovanni is interested in innovating some of their trade. He believes it's time to start looking to the west for business associates."

Mateo nodded his head, tossed back his own drink and commented, "After spending time with Savino I believe that he’ll make a good ally."

Sotza lifted his drink in a toast. "To lucrative cross-border alliances. You, me, Reyes and now Savino. Between the four of us, we’ll own a good chunk of this world."

Mateo lifted his glass and toasted to that.

They talked for most of the afternoon, Mateo updating Sotza on each of his Miami contacts and giving the older man a clear rundown on his activities. For his part, Sotza seemed impressed with Mateo’s persistence and ingenuity. Miami was not an easy city to lock down, but it was too lucrative to allow it to fall into the wrong hands.

Sotza made a couple of suggestions that Mateo paid close attention to. Though Mateo had acted as Sotza's second-in-command for two decades, the other man was a born and bred leader. He slept, ate, and breathed organized crime. This was why he was Mateo's mentor.

Mateo left the club feeling good about things. He was now kingpin in one of the most lucrative organized crime cities in the world. He had connections all over the world and was in the process of cementing new ones. The woman of his dreams waited at home for him. She might be angry, but he would always want to see her, want to spend time with her. It didn't matter if she was screaming curse words at him, he would treasure every syllable.

When Mateo got back to the mansion, he decided to give Raina more time to herself and opened the door to his office, smiling, as he did each time he entered. Drop cloths and dust were his new normal when it came to this room. At first, he didn't see her standing among the plastic protectors covering the bookshelves. But then she turned when she heard him, her intense blue eyes piercing him as she tilted her head to the side, her blond hair spilling across her shoulder.

"You're back early," she said softly.

He was usually home around suppertime.

"Finished my meeting and decided I wanted to come home. See how you’re doing.” His words were spoken with the careful deference of the man who knew he'd hurt his lover and didn't want to cause further damage.

She set the tape measure she'd been holding down on the edge of his desk and leaned her hip against the wood. She crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged. A protective gesture he’d come to recognize.

"I'm okay now."

Mateo stepped toward her, somewhat hesitantly. If she still needed space, he would give it to her. For a time. But she allowed his approach, not even a frown flickering her fine brows.

He didn't speak, sensing that she had something to tell him. After a few moments of gathering her thoughts she looked up at him. "Maybe you're right, maybe I shouldn't have babies. I feel strong, I feel tough and sometimes even invincible. When I'm not being shot at anyway." Her tone was wry, though he sensed the underlying seriousness. "But I want the chance to decide these things myself. I don't want to be told something as huge as that I won’t be allowed to give birth to a child. It's unfair. You have to see how unfair it is, Mateo."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wrestling with his words and thoughts. He truly thought about simply apologizing and nothing more. He wouldn't reverse his vasectomy; that option wasn't on the table. But Raina deserved more than that. She deserved his entire truth even if it made her angry again.

"Yes, it's not fair to have decisions made about your own body. And I am sorry that you were hurt by this decision. But I would make the same choice all over again. What’s fair and what’s not doesn’t come into consideration when your health is on the line. Free will means nothing to me in the face of your continued survival. Do you understand?"

She nodded, still thoughtful. Not angry, which relaxed something inside him. He expected her fury, understood it even. Instead, she was attempting to see his side of things, though he refused to compromise.

"I do understand. And I think… I think that the way you love me is breathtaking." She stared at him, her eyes big blue pools of intelligence. "I may not agree with you. And I may actively take steps to defy you if we do have a similar disagreement in the future. But, for now, this isn't the thing that will break us."

Mateo's instincts screamed to life, telling him to lay down the law. He should deny her words, tell her that she will never be given the chance to defy him when it comes to her health. But he swallowed the words. He'd had enough truth for now, even though she would absolutely never be allowed to place herself in harm's way.

"What will break us?" he asked.

"I don't know." Her words were almost a whisper, they were wistful and hopeful at the same time.

Mateo closed the space between them, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her against his body for a hug. "The answer to that is nothing will break us. I won't let it happen."

She tipped her head back, her eyes shining and her lips stretching into a smile. He hadn't expected this from her, not today, maybe not for many days until she got over the shock of his earlier announcement.

"I won't let anything break us either." Her words were firm with conviction.

Mateo could do nothing other than kiss her. He lowered his head at the same time as lifting her up onto her toes, taking her lips in a kiss meant to convey all the feelings he couldn't express easily. Love, affection, awe, desire, admiration. This woman was the whole package and he was never going to let her go. They would grow old together, they would die together. He couldn't imagine a better life.

He deepened the kiss, his brain automatically searching for appropriate surfaces to lay her out on. He needed to seal this declaration with a solid fuck and he needed to do it now.

Unfortunately, he didn't get the chance. The whole world exploded around them in a deafening BOOM.

50

Mateo came to first, his ears ringing fiercely, his body vibrating with tension. Adrenaline shot through his body and his fight or flight instinct kicked in. He rolled onto his hands and knees and swung his head around searching for Raina. Dust hung in the air, stinging his eyes, but after a few seconds he spotted her. She was laying on her side facing him, eyes closed, arms curled into her body and knees pulled up to her chest. She wasn't moving.

"Raina!" He bellowed, lunging for her. His legs were wobbly and he fell to his knees next to her body.

He brought a hand down on her hip and rolled her onto her back. She groaned and one of her arms jerked up protectively over her chest.

"Mateo?" The word was faint, and he feared she was injured. Her eyes fluttered open and after a few seconds focused on him, a deep frown etching her features. "Wh-what happened?"

"Bomb."

The word barely left his lips when another explosion rocked the mansion. Everything shook and a deafening cracking sound told Mateo that a loadbearing wall was probably going down. He grabbed Raina, cradled her against his chest and hurled them both underneath the big sturdy desk. He curled himself around her thanking god that she was small. His big body barely fit into the space. He was able to protect his back and head, but his legs were still outside the desk.

He counted seconds in his head, waiting to hear another explosion. When none came, he crawled out from under the desk and stood, pulling his guns from their holsters.

He reached under the desk and took hold of her arm, pulling Raina out. He dragged her to her feet and held a hand over her arm as she steadied herself.

"I'm okay, do what you have to do." Her voice came out in her croak.

He badly wanted to check her thoroughly for injuries, but they didn’t have time. He would have to get her to safety and for that he needed his hands free and Raina on her own two feet.

"Follow me, no more than a foot behind; keep your hand on my back so I know where you are. We’re heading straight for the bunker. If you see anything questionable you hit the ground facedown and cover your head with your hands. You listen to everything I say. Got it?"

She nodded. “Let’s go.”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

He unlatched the French doors that led out onto the pool patio and shoved them open. As though he was waiting for them to appear, a man came hurtling toward them, bullets spraying the side of the house. Mateo flung Raina back into the office and shot the man, one bullet to the head.

Whoever was targeting them weren’t professional killers. The man had wasted at least a dozen bullets and hadn’t hit anything important. Mateo felt marginally better once he realized this.

"Let's go." Mateo led Raina through the back doors. "Stay low."

Mateo spotted one of his men and shouted, "Cover us!"

"Got your back," he shouted back.

"Boss!" Angela's voice reached out to them as she rushed through a back door on the other side of the house.

"Meet us at the bunker," Mateo yelled at her.

As Mateo was glancing back to make sure Raina was following close behind him another explosion hit. He lifted his head in time to see the pool house go up in flames as it exploded out in all directions. A split second later the impact hit them.

A piercing pain stabbed Mateo in the chest, to the left of his heart, under his collarbone. He was flung back so hard that he took out the entire patio table set. The metal screeched and then crumpled under his weight as it collapsed into the concrete below. Mateo's head was ringing and his body didn't want to obey him as he shouted internally to get up and find Raina. All he could do was turn his head to the side, eyes narrowed against the smoke in the air and search for her body.

At first, he didn't see her, and panic began to set in. He forced himself to roll off the table, hitting a metal chair in the process and knocking it aside. He landed on his hands and knees on the concrete. The stabbing pain in his chest became nearly unbearable, but not as unbearable as not knowing what happened to Raina.

He swung his head to the side, searching for her as he struggled to regain his feet.

"I got her!" The shout came right before he heard a splash as a body hit the pool.

Mateo watched in agonized confusion as someone swam toward an object floating in the pool. Mateo realized it was Raina as the man flipped her over onto her back and swam her to the edge of the pool towards Mateo.

Mateo dropped to his knees and reached for her, his heart thudding in his chest, each beat causing more and more pain as blood pumped out of his wound. But through the pain, relief shone like a weak ray of light as Raina's pale arm reached out from the pool towards him. She was alive and she was conscious.

He gritted his teeth against the pain as he wrapped his hands underneath her armpits and pulled her up next to him on the edge of the pool. Water poured off her as reached up to swipe at her glasses.

"Got to get to the bunker." His voice came out in a harsh rasp.

Mateo wasn't sure if he was reminding himself or telling Raina. Giovanni pulled himself out of the pool, kneeling next to Raina, his hand on her shoulder, his concerned gaze on Mateo.

"You're hurt."

Giovanni's observation woke Raina up and she craned her head around to stare at Mateo. Her eyes landed on his wound and she cried out as she reached for him.

Giovanni caught her wrist. "Don't touch it. We don't know if it's severed an artery. We have to leave it in there."

She made a pained whimpering sound but dropped her hand to Mateo’s arm. Mateo looked down, only now realizing that there was shrapnel in his wound. A jagged piece of metal stuck out of his chest about four inches.

Raina slid her arm under his right shoulder and looked up at him. "I'll help you. Stand slowly. We'll go to the bunker together."

Mateo thought about telling her to let go of him so she could protect herself but realized quickly he was too weak to continue without her help. He nodded sharply and looked at Giovanni. "My guns… should be over by the table."

Giovanni lurched toward the table, searching for Mateo's guns as Raina helped Mateo stand. He was losing blood too quickly. If he didn't get help, he would die, and he couldn't die before he made sure Raina was safe. They had to get to the bunker. He had to get her into the bolthole.

"Got it." Giovanni came back towards them holding one of Mateo's guns. "I'll lead the way, you two stay behind me."

"Behind the pool house… what used to be the pool house."

"I know where we’re going; I’ve wandered all over this property. I've seen your torture shed."

Of course he had. There was no chance a man of Giovanni’s position wouldn't at least suspect that Mateo had a building on the property for security and interrogation.

As they shuffled towards the back of the property, they could hear a cacophony of noise coming from the house. It seemed like the people who were targeting them outside the house, were now scouting around inside. Good news for Mateo, Raina and Giovanni if the enemy didn't realize that they were no longer in the mansion.

As they lurched toward the outbuilding, Giovanni asked, "Do you know who's targeting you?"

Mateo thought about it. "Could be any number of people."

"It's Desi." Raina's voice held both conviction and a terrible kind of anger that Mateo had never heard from her before. It was a killing anger.

"Desi?" Giovanni asked as they approached the back door of the building.

Mateo gave Giovanni the code and heaved a sigh of relief as the three of them shuffled into the building, slamming the door shut behind them. All was quiet within the bunker. This building hadn’t been penetrated yet. The walls were reinforced, built to withstand bomb blasts that were much bigger than the pipe bombs being blown up around the property.

Mateo knew exactly what his enemy was using as he had spent a few of his formative years under the tutorship of a hired bomber. Sotza had footed the bill for his education, believing that one day the knowledge would come in handy. Ironic that Mateo was now on the receiving end of that education. He didn't believe this had been Sotza’s intention at all.

"Desi hates all of us," Raina explained to Giovanni as they made their way into the bowels of the building. "She was second-in-command to a Mexican cartel. Her boss attacked my mom and stepdad, trying to kill them so they could take the Venezuelan business. But Mateo stopped them and killed Garza. We think it's his girlfriend who's targeting us. She attacked me a few weeks ago."

Mateo hadn’t realized that Raina knew he’d killed Garza. He certainly hadn’t spoken to her about it. Had to be her mother. Fucking woman didn’t know how to mind her own business. Mateo didn’t need Raina getting to know the killer in him; might spook her.

"Nicolás Garza," Giovanni said musingly. "I’ve heard of him. My son attempted to do business with him shortly before he disappeared. I take it that was your handiwork?"

Mateo nodded grimly, unable to concentrate on almost anything besides the pain radiating through him. His body had been through a lot. Gunshot wounds, stab wounds, head wounds. Nothing he’d experienced in the past had made him doubt his ability to pull through. Until now. He feared that this piece of shrapnel was too close to his heart, that he might not survive.

"Through… there." Mateo lifted a bloody finger, pointing down the corridor that led to the bolthole he built for Raina. He mumbled the code before they reached the door, fearful that he was about to pass out. He needed Raina inside that room. That room would protect her from everything, including a nuclear blast.

Giovanni punched the code into the panel and shoved the door open, looking back at Mateo and Raina as he did so. It was a mistake. A shot rang out, Giovanni's head burst into a spray of red, his body hit the doorframe and slid to the ground.

Raina's scream of terror was the last thing Mateo heard before he was shot. His body was flung backward and the world went black before he hit the floor.

He had failed.

51

Raina refused to allow shock to freeze her responses, taking away the precious second she needed to avenge the two men at her feet. She didn't know if they were alive or dead, but she was going to do her best to take down the threat for their sake.

She was going to fucking kill Desi with her bare hands.

Raina dropped to her knees, scooping up the gun that Giovanni had been holding. It was wet with blood. She didn't know whose and she didn't have time to care. She was facing a woman determined to kill her and everyone she loved. Raina rolled to the side of the door as bullets thumped into the wall behind and beside her. The second the shooting stopped, Raina swung her arm around the doorframe and shot at random.

A grunt of pain told her that she'd actually scored a hit. Impressive considering she'd never used a gun in her life. She wasn't about to waste a single second though. She flung herself into the room, crouching low and scanning as quickly as she could. Desi was bent over on the other side of the bed, clutching her thigh where blood was pouring freely. When Desi caught the movement of Raina out of the corner of her eye, she lifted her gun.

Raina got her first, shooting as rapidly as she could until the chamber of her gun was empty and Desi was flung backwards as she took a bullet to the shoulder. Raina was starting to think she was a shooting prodigy, impressed with herself for managing to hit Desi twice.

Raina threw herself across the bed, rolling as she flung her gun at Desi's head, cracking her in the side of the skull with it. Raina smiled grimly as Desi cried out in pain and grabbed her head.

Desi staggered away from Raina, her hand moving to her belt where she pulled a knife, her movements slow and clumsy. Despite Desi having a good four or five inches on her, Raina was able to grab Desi by the throat and swing her into the concrete wall.

Desi’s head hit with a sickening crack. She flinched and shook her head as if trying to clear it. Desi struck out blindly with her knife, finally scoring a hit on Raina. Raina cried out as fire slice through her upper bicep, but she was sure the wound wasn't that bad considering her grip on Desi’s neck remained tight. Raina grasped Desi’s knife hand, slamming her wrist into the wall next to her head.

The two women were in a standoff. Though wounded, Desi was bigger and far more skilled than Raina. But Raina had rage on her side. She wanted this woman to die and she wanted to do it herself. Every time Desi tried to hit out at her, Raina absorbed the hit and struck back. An elbow to Desi's chin, a fist to her chest and a knee to Desi's groin.

There was no doubt, Desi was taking the brunt of their fight. Blood loss was making her weak and clumsy.

"I'm going to enjoy slicing that pretty face off," Desi hissed, baring her teeth at Raina.

Raina punched her in the mouth, bloodying her teeth and ending Desi's stream of vitriol. Raina leaned in close to Desi. "Right back at you, bitch."

Another minute of struggling and Desi was finally forced to release her hold on the knife, allowing it to drop to the floor with a clatter. Desi tried to drop to her knees, groping frantically for it. Raina brought her own knee up, hitting Desi in the side of the head and knocking her to the ground. Raina scooped the knife up and jumped on top of Desi, first dropping to her knees on Desi's chest, then straddling her.

Desi screamed in pain and flung her arms over her face, turning her head to the side as Raina lifted the knife, preparing it to plunge it into Desi's chest.

A hand gripped her wrist, stopping her. Raina threw her head back glaring up at the person who dared to stop her. Mateo stood swaying next to her, then dropped to his knees, his hand sliding away from Raina's. She twisted, still on top of Desi and pressed her hands to his cheeks, uncaring of the bloody knife she held in her hand.

"I thought you were dead!" she wailed, tears starting to flow.

"I… I would never… leave you." His voice was weak, and Raina realized how much effort it must've taken to pull himself up off the floor and come to her aid. "Don't kill her."

"But why?" Raina demanded swiping at her tears. “We need to finish this.”

"Because you are not a killer and this woman deserves a slower death than what she’ll find from a knife to the heart." This had not come for Mateo. He was already slipping away from her, his eyes drifting shut as his body slumped back against the bed.

It was Giovanni. He stood tall, proud and angry, blood pouring down his face and neck from his wound. This was the Italian Godfather. The man who ruled the underground of an entire nation. Not only was he alive, but he looked like the formidable kingpin he was, his cold gaze on the woman laid out on the floor.

He had a point. Desi didn’t deserve an easy death. Not after everything she’d done to Raina's family.

Raina nodded at him. "Can you help me secure her so we can get help for Mateo?"

Giovanni dropped down beside Raina and set about making sure that the semi-conscious Desi would neither move or die anytime soon. When he finished, he helped Raina assess Mateo. They did their best to stanch the flow of blood from his wounds, pressing a towel that Raina found in the washroom around the shrapnel sticking out from his chest and another against a gunshot wound that went through the flesh in his side. They agreed that they didn't think any arteries had been severed, but he was still losing too much blood.

Moments later, the room filled with their people. Danny and Angela were the first ones in. Angela was quick to assure Raina that the house had been secured and anyone involved in the attack neutralized. They laid Mateo out on the bed and set to work saving the life of their leader. The boss of the Miami underworld.

52

Everything that happened after Desi was captured was a blur. Raina and Giovanni did their best to stabilize Mateo until the paramedics could arrive. They’d debated making the call, since the usual procedure would be to call a doctor they kept on standby for emergencies, but both agreed Mateo could be critical. It was better to make sure he survived first; they could deal with the fallout and potential city payoffs later.

Vee and Sotza arrived at the mansion at the same time as Mateo, Raina and Giovanni were being loaded into ambulances. Raina insisted on accompanying Mateo to the hospital, which the paramedic finally agreed to when she became nearly hysterical at the idea of leaving his side.

Desi had mostly missed when she'd aimed to kill Giovanni, clipping him in the side of the head. The wound looked much worse than it actually was. And after the paramedics had a look at him, they were told that Giovanni would likely only need a few stitches.

Mateo was another matter. Though the shrapnel in his shoulder had not hit a major artery, it had struck the bone and the paramedic who looked him over believed that there was damage to his collarbone. His gunshot wound was mostly superficial, though it would need stitching. He’d also lost a significant amount of blood and was covered in scrapes and bruises.

Raina hadn't realized that she'd been hurt until Vee grabbed hold of her and started shouting for a paramedic. Raina looked blearily at her mother. "Who needs a paramedic? Mateo and Giovanni are already being looked after." Raina looked surreptitiously around and added, “And anyone else involved is probably dead."

Vee grabbed hold of Raina's arm and held it up. There was a long gash on her upper arm. Blood was trickling slowly from her wound and down her hand, but she'd been so preoccupied with Mateo's injuries that she hadn’t noticed. Now that she saw the blood, she felt woozy.

"Don't you dare!" Vee snapped, giving her a sharp two-fingered tap to the cheek. "We don't have time for fainters in this family. Pull yourself together, get in that ambulance and go for stitches."

Vee said this as she wrapped Raina's wound with a cloth napkin she snatched from the dining room. She stood next to the ambulance as Raina climbed inside. Raina looked at her mother and said calmly, "Someone let Desi in the bunker room. Only three of us had the code."

She didn’t want to tell her mother exactly who betrayed them as too many people were standing around listening. She hoped Vee and Sotza would figure out who she meant.

"I'm on it." Vee answered, then she leaned up and kissed Raina on the cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too, mom."

Mateo tensed as consciousness rushed towards him. He expected a blast of pain to knock him on his ass but was instead greeted by a gentle fuzzy sensation. He'd been drugged. He hated that someone had administered what was likely morphine while he wasn’t awake to give his consent. He needed his wits about him, needed to be able to think, to talk to Raina.

"I'm here." Her soft voice penetrated the mist that he was attempting to swim through to reach consciousness.

Finally, Mateo managed to pry his eyes open. He tried to speak but only a croak emerged. He let out a frustrated growl and tried to push himself up on the bed.

Alarm swept over Raina's features and she was quick to grab him, placing her hand carefully against his chest, away from his wound and giving him a gentle push back against the pillows. Mateo resisted for a few seconds, then gave in. Raina meant well, but he would have to get up and moving before long.

Maybe one day he would explain to her the extent of some of the injuries he'd suffered in the past. Every time he'd been shot, stabbed, or punched, he had no choice but to bounce back quickly. To force his body to accept and overcome whatever injury he'd sustained. He was a firm believer in mind over body because he had no choice. In his line of work, a bed ridden mobster was a dead mobster.

"Do you remember anything?" she asked him, reaching for a cup with a plastic lid and straw. She placed it against his lips.

Mateo gratefully took several sips, wetting his parched throat. He closed his eyes and tried to think of the events that had landed him… where was he? He opened his eyes and looked around the room. Fuck. They brought him to a hospital. Once he was recovered, he would have to have a long conversation with Raina about proper protocol when it came to injuries. He did not ever want to be checked into a hospital, nor did he want drugs administered.

"I remember the blast." His voice was stronger, though rough, as though he’d been coughing for days. "Going into the bunker. I remember Desi.”

He could see her now, standing across the room from them, her gun raised. She'd sprayed them with bullets. Mateo had taken one in the side and fallen back. He didn’t remember anything else.

"Where’s Desi?"

Raina squeezed his arm and set his glass of water back on the table. "She's being held in the bunker. I tried to kill her, but Giovanni stopped me."

"He’s alive?" Mateo was surprised that the other man had survived a shot to the head.

She nodded. "The bullet winged him, causing a gash on the side of his head. But that's the only injury he sustained during the entire standoff."

"You?"

She shook her head and played with the end of her sleeve. "I'm fine. Especially considering I survived a bomb blast, an impromptu dip in the pool and being shot at by a psychopath. All in the space of about ten minutes."

Mateo smiled wryly. It was just like his girl to make fun of a serious attack. She used humour to lighten the mood when darkness could easily emerge the victor. He appreciated her ability to look on the lighter side of things. She balanced him, balanced his serious nature and the darkness within him.

"My parents are at the mansion now, getting everything back in order. They’ve been texting with me while I waited for you to get out of surgery. It looks like there were three bombs. One in the lobby, another in the pool house and another in your bedroom." Raina filled him in on the details, giving him a thorough no-nonsense rundown. "Sotza is managing the contacts that’ve heard about the explosions and checked in. He's also organized all the house staff and security. We were lucky. We didn't lose anyone in the bombs. Desi attacked the mansion with two hired thugs, both are dead now. We think the bombs were planted while she still had access to the house and grounds and that she used a remote device to set them off. Sotza thinks she used the distraction of the bombs to get through our estate security and into the bunker."

"Makes sense." Though he trusted Sotza to take care of his holdings, he was concerned about the ripple effect this attack would have through the Miami underworld. Now was the time to make a show of strength. To show all of his contacts, new and old, that he would not be defeated so easily. "How long was I out? Help me up."

Mateo swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for the IV in his arm. He suspected that he was getting a good dose of morphine along with his fluids. Before Raina could try and stop Mateo, he yanked the tubes from his arm. A trickle of blood welled up and ran down his hand from where he pulled the needle out.

"No, I won't help you!" Raina said, her voice going high with concern. "You need to stay in bed. You literally just had surgery, Mateo."

"Raina," Mateo took hold of her arms and gave her a shake. "How long was I out?"

Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him. "About four hours. They took you into surgery as soon as we arrived and you’ve been in recovery for about two hours."

Good. The sooner he got up and moving the less time his Miami contacts would have to wonder whether he was alive or dead, whether he had left a gaping opening for one of them to fill.

"My clothes?"

Raina's lips tightened and she continued to give him a death glare that made it clear how she felt about him being up so soon. Regardless, she pointed to a chair where there was a tidy stack of his clothes.

It hurt to get dressed, but Raina finally relented in her anger and helped him pull his clothes on, very gently pulling the zipper on his pants and buckling his belt. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she tilted her head up and gave him a half grin.

"Are you seriously getting hard right here, right now, after all we've been through?" she asked with an incredulous laugh.

He wrapped an arm around her neck pulling her in tight against his good shoulder. He dropped his head to kiss her. "Woman, I'd have to be on my deathbed to withstand your touch. And even then, pretty sure I'm going to be going to my grave with a permanent boner."

They laughed together, a much-needed moment. As they left the room, two bodyguards stood up from their positions outside Mateo’s room and flanked them. Reinforcements that Sotza sent. A doctor tried to argue Mateo out of leaving, but Mateo was insistent. Finally, he was given a form to sign saying that he was leaving the hospital against medical advice.

Together, they stepped out into the balmy Miami night. Though Mateo badly wanted to go back to the mansion and put his house back in order, he had to make a few stops first. He had to go to those damned clubs he despised so much, sit down, have a drink with his woman and show the world that there was not a thing wrong with the new Miami boss.

53

When they arrived back at the mansion, Mateo expected to be confronted with chaos. Instead, he found a well-organized household, busy putting everything back together. Even the front door, where a bomb had gone off inside the lobby, was almost completely fixed. New doors replaced the ones that had been blown off their hinges. Now, only some scarring on the paneling beside the doors indicated what had happened.

As they entered their home, they were confronted by Vee and Sotza. Raina broke away from Mateo and flung herself at her mother. Vee gripped her tightly and whispered something to her.

Sotza placed a hand on his stepdaughter’s shoulder and squeezed, but his concerned gaze remained on Mateo. "You okay, son?"

Mateo jerked his head in a nod. "Fine," he said shortly. "Tell me what's been happening here."

Sotza gave him a wry look. "While you two were out barhopping, we were busy setting things in order." Mateo chuckled at Sotza's description. Far from barhopping, he and Raina, along with their two bodyguards had spent time in two of Mateo’s clubs. The entire experience had been agonizing, having to get in and out of the vehicle, which hurt like a bitch. Sitting in a booth, drinking a glass of water and talking to his fiancé as though everything were normal.

They had done it for the sake of appearances. Mateo could not afford to look weak now. Of course, Sotza knew that. "You're going to need to re-renovate your office and a couple of the rooms upstairs. A wall came down in the master suite. We moved your captive into a secure cell where she's being watched by a guard."

Mateo grunted his acknowledgement. "Angela?"

Vee answered, her eyes narrowing in anger. "We’re holding her for you, though I’d dearly love to get my hands on that woman."

Mateo agreed. Angela's betrayal hurt the most. He could understand and even respect Desi’s vendetta, but he didn't understand Angela. He'd known her since she was a child, mentored and cared for her. She befriended and then betrayed Raina. Mateo was beyond furious. It would take some real self-restraint to stop himself from killing her long enough to hear an explanation. He decided to tour the mansion first, giving himself time to calm down.

Once again, he was surprised to see how little damage the bombs actually did. They tore apart furniture, threw shrapnel into walls and doors, but otherwise left the mansion unscathed. They had clearly been relatively weak bombs, either built by an amateur or meant to cause little to no harm.

Finally, he was ready to face his enemies. Two women. In a way he wasn't entirely surprised. The mafia could be hostile towards women, unforgiving. A century ago, when organized crime rose up in the Americas, there had been an unwritten code that women and children were not touched.

Now, things were different. Gangs didn’t always respect the code. Too often women and children were killed during takeovers as one opponent would try to wipe out the entire family of another. Women also worked more and more in security, acting as bodyguards, or in Desi’s case, second-in-command.

Still, Mateo was uncomfortable with the idea of killing women. So far, in his long and bloody career he'd managed to stay away from having to kill a woman. Though, after he finished Nicolás Garza, he had intended to hunt and kill the man’s partner, Desi. Perhaps, it was his leniency toward women that stopped him from going after her right away. He regretted that now. His reticence could have caused the death of the only woman in the world who meant anything to him.

Mateo learned his lesson. He would not be going easy on Desi, Angela or any other woman who threatened his family. He strode across the backyard, skirting the pool, toward the bunker. Sotza was on one side of him and Giovanni on the other. Giovanni had made his way back to the mansion while Mateo was out at the clubs. Having been once more caught up in their family drama, the Italian Godfather was now invested in the outcome.

Though Raina wanted to come with him, Mateo had refused her. She had agreed to stay at the mansion with her mother, helping to put the pieces of the household back together. Mateo suspected Raina knew she wouldn’t have the stomach for what was about to happen.

Mateo chose to see Desi first. He knew exactly what he wanted to do to her, and he wouldn't be nearly as heartbroken over it as he was with what was coming Angela's way. He entered the room, expecting to find a broken woman after the beating she’d taken at Raina's hands. Instead, he was confronted by a hissing, spitting, expletive screaming Desi.

Mateo, Sotza and Giovanni stopped in the doorway for a few seconds to admire the raging Latina beauty. Despite what Raina had done to Desi's face, she was still a stunning woman. Her long black hair fell in a shiny wave around her shoulders and her tall body was encased in tight leather pants and a black zipped jacket.

"Desiree." He said her name coldly, drawing her attention.

"You!" she hissed, lunging at him. She was pulled back by the cuffs binding her wrists to the wall. "Just my fucking luck, you pulled through." Her gaze flited behind him to land on Sotza, her eyes narrowing first in recognition, then in hatred.

Mateo had to fight not to show his amusement. Even while facing a grisly death, she would still go down fighting, cursing his name and wishing every bad thing she could think of upon him and his family. Despite his anger that she put Raina in danger over and over, he could appreciate and sympathize with her.

They lived in a dangerous world, one where people like Desi and Mateo willingly threw themselves into some of the most dangerous situations imaginable. People they loved would die. It was a fact. But the loyalty and friendships they developed among members of their alliances forced them to avenge each other in a never-ending cycle of vendetta.

"You nearly took the life of my woman." Mateo stepped up to her, entering her space, unafraid as she lunged toward him, throwing her fists. He caught her wrist and slammed it back against the wall, scraping her knuckles on the concrete. "For that, your life is forfeit."

"I gladly give my life,” she snarled. “You destroyed everything I had to live for."

She spat at him, intending to hit his face with the bloody saliva. But they were standing too close together, so it missed and hit his shirt collar. Mateo didn't flinch and he didn’t move.

“So you decided to destroy the thing that I had to live for,” Mateo drawled.

She stared at him, her dark eyes hot coals of hate. Her anger was so palatable that Mateo was surprised by her next words. "If I have any regrets in all this, it’s that I targeted Raina instead of you. She’s more innocent of this world then I originally thought."

Mateo raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected Desi to unbend enough to admit such a thing. He thought some of her mixed feelings when it came to Raina probably came from the amount of time she spent one-on-one with Raina during the renovations. Raina was a difficult woman to hate.

Mateo switched gears, asking a question that had haunted him for weeks. “Were you in any way responsible for the death of my Mexican liaison and his family?”

Her face betrayed her before her words, her gaze dropping to the floor and her skin paling. As rage flooded his system, he had to check the urge not to punch her in the face and take her out right there.

“Yes,” she admitted. “Since you decimated the Garza cartel, I didn’t have the manpower I needed to come after you. I heard rumours of another family further east who despise the South American cartels. I teamed up with them and they went after your guy. It was a mistake. I don’t kill children. I dropped them, which is why I had to hit the mansion with only a couple guys for backup. The plan was to bring an army to your doorstep.”

Some of the rage left Mateo as she explained. He was surprised she was giving him the information so freely, but if she truly felt guilt over the incident, perhaps she was trying to cleanse her soul before death by confessing her part.

"If you think these words will move me to take it easy on you, then you’re mistaken."

Her eyes flared in anger and she reared back, struggling in his grip, her moment of self-reflection over.

“I don’t care what you think!” she screamed at him. “Get it the fuck over with. I want the peace only my grave will provide.”

Mateo gripped her chin. “Your death will be a long and agonizing one. Don’t dream of that grave just yet, bitch. We’re going to have some fun first.”

“Do you think you can make me scream?” she challenged, her eyes dark empty voids staring back at him. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so difficult to kill this woman.

“Count on it.”

She gave him a bloody grin. “Good, then the underworld will know I’m coming.”

Mateo didn't bother replying but turned and left the room reaching for the sanitary wipe his man handed him. He wiped the saliva off his collar and flicked the wipe into the garbage. He gave his man a penetrating look. "Prepare her for me."

Mateo had a method when he tortured his victims. He preferred them seated on a chair with their hands cuffed to the sides. There would be a strap around the neck keeping the head up so he could see the eyes as the life was slowly beaten from them.

Before they could move onto the next room, Giovanni cleared his throat, his thoughtful gaze on Desi’s cell. "I have a rather large favour to ask. Before you deny my request, hear me out and take your time with the decision."

Mateo frowned at Giovanni. "You’ve been a friend to us. I’m willing to grant a request."

Sotza crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed in thought, as though he suspected he knew what Giovanni would say. “What are you asking?”

Giovanni smiled grimly. "I guarantee this is a request you will not want to grant, and I can give you my word now that I will abide by your judgement on this." Mateo waved his guards back so their conversation would be private. "I want you to give me that woman. Desi."

Mateo's frown turned thunderous and he opened his mouth to immediately deny the request. Giovanni interrupted him. "I can promise that whatever you do to her, while extremely painful, will be short-lived. Unless you intend to allow her to live longer than a few days, her suffering will eventually end. Give her to me and I can promise that her suffering will continue through a lifetime."

The two men stared at each other while Sotza remained silent. Mateo was tempted to take Giovanni up on his offer, but he was hesitant. Yes, he wanted Desi to suffer for more than a few days. But it disturbed him, the idea that this man who befriended Raina was eager to get his hands on the Latina assassin. There were some things that Mateo could not condone. Yet, for men like them, morality was murky, an ever-changing thing that couldn’t be pinned down.

"Why do you want her?"

Giovanni's answer to the question would seal her fate.

"My wife… she died many years ago. Succumbing to a lifestyle that I forced her into. She was soft and sweet, not meant for mob living. I loved her too deeply to let her go. I am convinced, that it is my selfishness that eventually killed her." Giovanni gazed at the closed door to Desi's room. "That woman is fierce; she’s strong and she won’t die easily. Nor will her children. I want more than the one fuck-up offspring I managed to produce. I intend to leave a legacy behind in this world, children who are capable of taking over my holdings. She will make a fine mother." His light brown eyes landed back on Mateo, a hint of humour in their depths. "And I can promise you, she will suffer as I train her to become the perfect wife."

Mateo gave it a few minutes thought, but his mind had been made up almost immediately after Giovanni finished speaking. Though it was a difficult decision to leave Desi alive, Giovanni's proposal was the perfect solution. Mateo would not have to torture and kill her. Giovanni would do to her things that she hated, things that Mateo didn't have time for or the desire. Turning a woman like Desi into a Stepford wife was the perfect revenge. She would hate every moment.

First, he had to make sure his mentor was on board with the idea. Desi had personally attacked him in Venezuela while helping Garza. “What do you think?”

Sotza stood, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes on the ground as he thought. He raised his head and pinned Giovanni with a serious look. “I will require your word that she doesn’t leave your Italian property except in a body bag. You take responsibility for the woman. If she escapes, or you allow her off the property, we will come after you both.”

“That is a fair demand,” Giovanni agreed. He turned his attention to Mateo. “And you?”

"She's all yours but we’ll have to discuss details. I don't like the idea of that woman breathing in the same world as Raina. I need to know how you intend to keep her properly secured."

“I’ll get you a plan before I leave here with her. You have my word that this woman will remain in my keeping. She’ll never be given the opportunity to become a threat again.”

“Good enough.”

The two men shook and Mateo re-entered Desi’s room. She was now secured to a chair, her hands cuffed and her neck strapped. She glared daggers at the men, her malevolent gaze moving to each of them.

“What now?” she demanded.

Mateo knelt on the floor next to Desi, pulling his knife from the pocket of his jeans. He flicked the blade open, locking it in place.

She moved her head to stare down at him. Mateo put the blade against the pointer finger of her right hand; the most likely to be her trigger finger.

“Your life has been spared,” he told her, then sliced the finger off in one clean cut.

To her credit, Desi didn’t even whimper. Her face paled and her lips quivered. Involuntary tears shone in her eyes.

Mateo stood, tossed her finger on the table and strode to the door.

“Take care of your slave,” he said to Giovanni, slipping past the other man and heading down the hall toward Angela’s cell.

Sotza walked with Mateo, but waited outside the room, tacitly giving Mateo space to deal with a woman who had been his friend.

Mateo's conversation with Angela was surprisingly brief. She turned as he entered the door. Angela hadn't been secured. She was allowed loose in her cell. Her face was puffy from crying and her lip was bloody. Someone had punched her. If Mateo had to guess, he would say Vee.

"You betrayed me." The chill in his voice frosted the air in the room.

"It's not what you think." Tears filled her eyes.

Mateo grabbed her by the neck and shoved her into the nearest wall squeezing hard enough that she gasped for air. She didn't fight him though, her arms hung loose her sides. Her gaze was on his shoulder where a bandage was visible through the collar of his shirt. A throb of pain hit him reminding him that the bone had sustained a fracture.

"Then tell me exactly what happened. Speak quickly and don't leave out any details."

For good measure Mateo pulled his switchblade, still shiny with Desi’s blood and set it against her throat over top of her pulse point. One wrong word and he was going to drain her.

She swallowed, closed her eyes and nodded as though gathering herself. Then, she opened her eyes and began speaking, swiftly and purposefully. "I didn't betray you. At least, not on purpose. You asked me to supervise the installation of the bolthole door and input the correct code once the panel was in. I did exactly as you asked, only there was a problem. Something electronic. I couldn't input the code. I had to call in a tech guy to help. And there's only one that I trusted."

"Thomas." Mateo's voice came out in a growl.

Angela's words rang true. He had requested that she input the code, making her, him and Raina the only three people on the grounds that had access to the bunker. But Angela had a weakness. Though she was a security expert, she was not a technology expert. Thomas had always been Mateo's man for IT stuff. He was a trusted member of their team, having worked with both of them for several years in Venezuela before moving with them to Miami. Hell, he'd even had Mateo's back in Italy. It was a shock to learn that he'd been the one to betray them.

"I tried to keep the code away from him, even knowing that you trusted him implicitly." Her voice rose with upset. "But he insisted that he had to enter the code himself. Something to do with whatever glitch the panel was experiencing. I don't know if he caused the tech problem on purpose in order to get his hands on the code, or if he took advantage of an opportunity."

Mateo didn't know either, but he would find out as soon as he got his hands on Thomas. It was a relief knowing Angela hadn't actually betrayed him. He dropped his hand from her throat and allowed her to move away from the wall.

"You should've told me he knew the code. This was a major fuck up that could've ended in both mine and Raina's deaths."

Angela nodded, tears spilling over and trailing down her cheeks. She sniffled and used the back of her hand to swipe at them. She didn't look like the badass mafioso woman he had become used to. Then again, Mateo probably didn't look all that fierce either after the beating his body had taken.

"I willingly accept your punishment, whether you take my life, my finger or whatever else will make this right. You’ve been so generous to me that I'm devastated I was part of this. I deserve whatever comes my way.” She shuffled her feet and stared at the floor, her tears dripping onto the cement.

Mateo thought about it and then collapsed into one of the metal chairs behind him, elbow on his knee, his head in his hand. "Between you and me I haven’t the desire or energy to hurt you. And I suspect Raina will set the mansion on fire if I try to send you away. When she finds out that you’re innocent of betrayal, she’ll advocate for you until I have no choice but to allow you to stay. There will be some changes though. I can no longer allow you to remain as head of security."

"I understand." Her voice was soft but hopeful. "I'll do anything you ask."

Mateo rubbed the back of his neck, thinking for a few minutes. "I'll have to check with Raina, but how does personal bodyguard to my wife sound? You’ll have to take a step down in terms of security, but I think you'll both be happy with the solution."

Angela threw herself on her knees in front of Mateo and clasped his hand, not bothering to check the tears that were streaming down her face. "Thank you, thank you. I’ll never again give you reason to doubt me."

Mateo placed a hand on her head, patting her gently. "I know."

54

Thomas was located at the dockyard, attempting to use the getaway that Desi had originally arranged for them. Finding him there, actively attempting to leave to city hammered the final nail in his coffin. Unlike Angela, Thomas had guilt written all over him. Mateo had treated the guy like a brother. He’d allowed him into his home, entrusted him with his most valuable possession, Raina.

Sotza, Mateo and a half dozen of their people confronted Thomas at the dockyard. Thomas’ reason for betraying the family had been greed. Money and position within Desi’s cartel; the cartel she’d intended to resurrect from the ashes of her dead boyfriend. A motive that infuriated Mateo like nothing else. Though they were all mobsters, there was a code. A code that Thomas had broken. He betrayed his mob family for the sake of a better position.

Mateo didn’t bother dragging the man home to his torture shed but allowed his fury free rein right there in the dockyard, next to the boat Thomas and Desi were going to use to escape. He painted the docks red until he was satisfied. Until Thomas was no longer recognizable.

Mateo and Sotza walked away from the dockyard, leaving the body behind for everyone to see. Thomas would be a statement to the Miami underworld; betrayal would not be tolerated.

Raina paced the bedroom, waiting for Mateo to come back. He’d been gone for hours and she was worried about him. What if his wound reopened and he bled out? He certainly wasn't taking very good care of himself.

He had a broken collarbone, yet he refused to put it in a sling before going to visit his captives. He told her that he couldn't look weak. Like when he forced her to go to the clubs with him, pretended that all was well and that they hadn't been beaten to hell and back.

Raina was on another lap around the room when the door was flung open, smacking against the wall. Mateo stood there for see few seconds staring at her, then his expression gradually went from worry to anger.

"I looked everywhere for you. I can't have you missing right now. You need to be where I can see you."

Raina frowned at him and then bit her lip to keep herself from pointing out that if he'd allowed her to go to the bunker with him as she wanted, he would've known exactly where she was.

Instead, she said calmly, "I've been right here in my bedroom all along. Yours was blown up, so I came back here."

"You should've had someone come tell me where you'd be."

Raina could understand why Mateo might be grumpy. He was probably exhausted; he was hurting, and he was dealing with the betrayal of a good friend. But still, she couldn't allow him to think that he could snap at her anytime he wanted. "Exactly how many places did you have to search for me before coming here?"

His dark eyes narrowed on her and he took a menacing step forward. "I will beat the sass right out of you if you keep it up."

Raina bit back a grin. At the moment, he was about as capable of beating her up as she was of beating him. "Are you afraid to answer the question? How many rooms did you check before you came to this one?"

He gripped her by the back of the neck and dragged her into his chest, bending to place a hard, stinging kiss on her lips. He moved back far enough to give her a wry look. "I checked the family room, then I came here."

She laughed. "So basically, you searched the entire mansion for me. I definitely see why you're upset about this."

He released her and stepped back to sink wearily onto the bed. "Remind me to beat you as soon as I'm feeling better."

Raina dropped to her knees in front of him and reached up to unbutton his shirt, careful not to jar his injuries as she slid each button through the hole.

"When you're able to spar again, I'll be the first one lining up for you." Her eyes were shining with humour.

She felt a great deal of love for the man in front of her. She didn't know how it had come to this. How she’d gone from first hating him to tolerating him to now. She was so in love with him that she couldn't imagine her existence without him. It would be empty, meaningless. She needed him and he needed her.

Once the buttons were open, she reached up and gently slid the material off his broad shoulders. Mateo lifted each arm as she tugged the cuffs from his wrists. Then her hands dropped to his belt. His hand landed on top of hers.

"I'll do this part." His lip curled in a partial smile. "Remember, dead man with a boner?"

Raina lifted her hands up in surrender and backed off, laughing. While he worked on pulling his pants off Raina got herself ready for bed. She washed her face and hands, brushed her teeth and hair and pulled on a short night gown. Once he was settled, she crawled into the bed next to him, careful to snuggle against his good side. He held her close and dropped his head to hers, inhaling her scent and kissing the fine strands of hair.

"Thank you." His deep voice penetrated the darkness of the bedroom.

She tipped her head up to look at him, her eyes tracing the shadows on his face, visible in the dim light coming through the window. "Thank you for what?"

"For surviving; for giving me a reason to continue breathing."

Raina didn't know what to say to that, so she kissed his chin and whispered, "You're welcome."

55

"How do I look?" Raina asked, turning to face her father.

Joe blinked rapidly and then ran a finger under one of his eyelids. "Like a queen." His voice was choked as he spoke.

He leaned down and kissed Raina's forehead before pulling the veil over top of the crown on her head and covering her face.

Raina's wedding day was an elaborate affair. Between Diane, Cassie and Vee, Raina barely had to lift a finger for it. Her gorgeous Marchesa gown had arrived two weeks earlier and fit her like a glove. It had a classic bell skirt with a sweetheart neckline and short sleeves. Diane had sewn the veil herself using a crown that Vee provided.

Cassie had harassed every flower shop in Miami until she finally settled on one that could supply her with everything she demanded. She wanted roses in every colour. There were blue, purple, red, pink, white and even black roses. The colourful combination was surprisingly stunning and elegant. There were two sections of chairs, one on either side of the aisle that Raina and Joe would walk down.

Moments earlier, Raina's bridesmaids had made their way down the aisle; Cassie, Angela and one of Mateo’s sisters who flew in from Venezuela. On the other side stood Mateo, looking handsome and regal in his tuxedo. Beside him, standing tall, was his best man Sotza. Beside Sotza was Danny and Giovanni.

It was a beautiful summer day and everyone on their guest list seemed bright and happy. Many of them had already been through Raina's bedroom to wish her luck. Mateo's mother, Ana Victoria, had brought Raina a small spray of blue flowers which they pinned to Raina’s skirt so she could wear something blue.

Raina hadn't had much time to spend with Mateo's family. They were polite but distant, a trait Mateo shared. It saddened Raina that Mateo wasn’t close with his family. Circumstance had kept them separated over the years. He'd been busy working up in the Venezuelan mountains and flying around the world securing Sotza’s investments. He also hadn’t wanted his lifestyle to put their lives in danger or put them under the scrutiny of authorities.

Joe and Diane had flown in the week before, along with Cassie and Noah. They had all accepted Raina’s and Mateo's invitation to stay at the mansion, which was large enough to hold many houseguests. Cassie and Diane had thrown themselves wholeheartedly into the wedding, supervising every detail, right down to the nail polish that Raina would wear. They chose a pink one with a light sparkle called Princesses Rule.

Vee and Sotza had flown in two days before the wedding. It was generally understood that Vee did not have a lot of time or patience for things like weddings, but she tried. She militantly kept everyone organized and in line when it looked like there might be an argument. Raina could definitely see how her mother had once been the boss of Miami.

"Are you ready?" Joe asked Raina.

Raina gazed up the aisle toward her future husband. Yes, she was ready. Finally, ready. She had feared this man, hated him, and loved him fiercely. Now, she couldn't imagine a life without him. She wanted to tie herself to him in every way possible so that going forward they would always be united.

"Yes, I'm ready." She gave her father a radiant smile and took the first step onto the aisle, a section of close-cut grass with flower petals strewn across.

Raina's train dragged behind her as she walked confidently toward Mateo. Her eyes were on him and he never once looked away. His expression did not change from his usual somber seriousness, which Raina appreciated. Perhaps Mateo was a man of few words. He wasn't particularly romantic and sometimes he said the wrong thing. But his heart was pure, and it beat for her alone. Only a fool wouldn't take hold of it with both hands and keep it safe.

As Raina approached the front, she turned to look at her father who lifted the veil from her face and set it over her head. Once again, he kissed her cheek. As Raina stepped toward Mateo, Sotza took a step toward her, waylaying her. He laid a hand on her shoulder and said, "I haven't had much of a chance to be a father to you, but I want you to know that you are the daughter of my heart. If you ever need anything you have only to call."

Raina had done so well at keeping her tears in check, but in a few words, Sotza summoned them to the forefront. The big, tough regal man who never unbent was allowing her space in his heart. A heart that belonged to Raina's mother.

"I know," she whispered, then smiled up at him. "Same to you. If you ever need me, I’ll come to your rescue."

Sotza chuckled. "Just like your mother." He bent down and kissed Raina's other cheek then took his place next Mateo.

Their vows were simple and traditional, both agreeing that neither were poetic enough to write their own. Raina didn't mind, she loved hearing that he would hold her in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for the rest of their lives.

The ceremony was short and when it was over everyone was ready to party. Their reception was a mixed group. Some of Raina's friends from her hometown and from her university. A bunch of Mateo's contacts. Even the formidable Bolivian boss, Reyes, and his wife, Casey, had made the trip down, along with Reyes second-in-command, Alejandro, and his wife, Gina, who was soft and sweet, her belly round with pregnancy. The look suited her.

Raina had been ecstatic to finally meet Casey in person and the women had chattered as though they were long-lost friends. Casey loved everything about the mansion renovations, which was a relief to Raina who worried coming back to the house would be traumatic.

Casey had admitted to some hesitation, but said she quickly got over it when faced with a home that looked nothing like the one she shared with Ignacio Hernandez. Though technically Casey was more Vee’s friend than Raina's, Raina suspected that she and Casey had more in common, and that they would become even better friends in the future.

They ate and partied well into the night until Raina didn't think she could eat one more cocktail shrimp or dance one more dance. Of course, when Cassie dragged her back onto the dance floor for one last twirl, Raina had no choice but to concede gracefully. Mateo watched from the sidelines as his new wife imitated silly dance moves with her best friend. His eyes shone with happiness and Raina felt pride. She had put that look there and she would do whatever it took to ensure that it remained.

Raina was pretty much dead on her feet when Mateo intercepted yet another person attempting to get her to dance again.

"Are you cutting in?" she asked, smothering a yawn against his shoulder.

He didn't answer. Instead he took her arm and beelined off the dance floor, away from their guests. Several tried to wave them down, but Mateo wasn't having it. He wanted his bride to himself. Raina trailed after him, her steps lagging with exhaustion. She'd had a long and very satisfying day and now she wanted nothing more than to kick off her heels and collapse into the nearest bed.

She was pleased to note that Mateo was dragging her through the mansion and up towards their bedroom. She was surprised when he stopped in front of the master suite. After the bombing, Mateo asked Raina to leave the renovation of the bedroom to him. She'd been curious but backed off, working on the other rooms instead. Mateo continued to share Raina's room, though he finished the master suite days ago.

She smothered another yawn, her eyes scrunching shut as Mateo pushed the door open and then bent to lift Raina off her feet. She giggled and clutched his neck, then gasped as she caught sight of the room.

"Oh my god, Mateo!" He set her on her feet so she could have a good look around the room.

"Did you knock down a wall?"

The room looked so much larger than it had before, as though it was two rooms in one.

He chuckled. “The bomb did that, I took advantage of an opportunity and made the room bigger.”

A huge California king size bed occupied the middle of the room with a gorgeous canopy over top. The filmy material falling from the canopy definitely didn't suit Mateo. He had chosen it for her, and her heart ached with happiness as she looked around noting all the touches that he'd made for her comfort.

There was a brand-new make up table, a hope chest with a beautiful hand quilted blanket across the top. Raina touched the blanket with her fingertips as she recognized Diane's work. There were a series of three pictures gracing one of the walls and Raina's eyes filled with tears as she looked at them. They were all of her. A picture that Mateo had taken of her in a candid moment, with her head bent over a book and her hair swirling around her face, her glasses perched on the end of her nose. She had been in deep concentration when the picture was taken.

It had been taken in Venezuela two and a half years ago. She’d heard the click of his phone as he was taking the picture and she looked up sharply. She'd yelled at him for interrupting her, for always interrupting her. For following her around and harassing her, for insisting that she stay inside instead of sitting in the garden.

Now, she understood that he been worried over her safety. He was always worried for her safety. Raina knew that this would be a fight they continued for the duration of their marriage, between his desire to bubble wrap and put her on a shelf versus her need for freedom. But they would find a balance.

Each picture on the wall was the exact same. Except each one was done in a different colour tone. One was blue, one was pink, and one was purple. It was a beautiful homage to her, and it filled her heart with happiness to see it. She also noted that on her new make-up table was two photographs. One of Diane and Joe and the other Vee and Sotza. Raina was surrounded by the people that loved her.

She twirled on the spot and launched herself at Mateo, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing tightly. "I love it so much."

He held her tight, clutching her against his body before setting her away, taking her hand and leading her toward another door. "Come see the ensuite."

Raina was excited. What woman didn't love a brand-new bathroom?

The ensuite was a slightly different colour palette from the bedroom. She suspected Mateo had handed over the reins to her interior designer. She was so glad. Vito, the designer, had gotten to know her well over the past few months and had installed everything he knew Raina would want. A deep whirlpool tub, his and her sinks, and an environmentally friendly flush toilet. Lots of beautiful bright lights with the heat lamp above the tub. Next to the tub was a marble shower with a rainspout for a showerhead.

Raina grinned at Mateo and shook her head. "You've outdone yourself, gangster."

Mateo touched the back of her dress, his fingers lingering on the zipper. "May I?"

Her mouth went dry. It was strange, they'd had sex many times over the past few months becoming more and more adventurous with each encounter. Raina hadn't thought it possible, but her satisfaction with Mateo and sex was constantly increasing until she didn't think it could get any better. Yet he kept proving her wrong, sending her spiraling toward new heights.

Marriage though… that was different. She was about to become his wife not only in name, but physically as well.

Raina knew it made no difference to Mateo. He considered her his wife the moment he decided their union would happen. Today was just another day to him. Today was for her, the bride. Mateo wanted her to shine and gave everyone around them the leeway needed to create an incredible wedding.

"Yes," she whispered.

56

Mateo slid the zipper of her dress down until it reached the base of her spine, stopping just above her butt. His fingers lingered there, sliding through the zip and touching her skin. She breathed in deeply and let it out on a sigh.

It felt so damn good to have him touch her. The wedding excitement had been going on for weeks and they became gradually more and more separated through the entire ordeal. The culmination of everything had been a wonderful and beautiful occasion, but Raina was ready to have her husband to herself.

Mateo slid his hands over her shoulders and then down her front, sliding them into the top of her gown which was loose now. His hands lingered at her breasts, the rough fingertips barely grazing her aching nipples. That simple stroke over her sensitive skin sent arrows of pleasure shooting through her.

She moaned and turned in his arms, tipping her face up for a kiss. Mateo did not disappoint. He gripped her face with a hand on either cheek and pulled her up onto her toes where he plundered her lips with a heated, desperate need. He wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her even further into his body, as though he couldn't get enough of her.

Raina clutched him, feeling the same. Having so many people in the house, interacting with them, being polite and always the gracious host had been a challenge. Mateo and Raina had been constantly on, every night falling into bed too tired to make love.

But this was their night, their time. Mateo reached out and turned the tap on in the shower. Then he helped Raina finish undressing. He touched and looked his fill with each part of her that was exposed to his hungry gaze. He dropped to his knees in front of her, and buried his face against her pussy, his hands clutching the backs of her thighs.

Raina gasped and grabbed his head, hanging on for the ride as he thrust his tongue against her slit, gathering the moisture that was rapidly growing there before attacking her clit. It was an incredible erotic moment, she standing over top of him in a position of power but also vulnerable in her nudity. Him, big, broad shouldered, kneeling at her feet, his face buried in her pussy. Her pale hand threaded through the strands of his black hair.

She continued to stare down as he used a finger to thrust up inside her driving her over the edge as his tongue continued to lash her wet and swollen clit. Raina threw her head back and moaned her pleasure as an orgasm washed over her, radiating from her center and hitting her in waves. Her knees buckled and Mateo clutched her close, holding her up. When she looked down, it was to find him looking up at her, her juices on his chin, deep possession in his eyes.

"Mi amor."

Her heart melted. Yes, she was his love. She would always be his love. She knew that because no one could love her the way Mateo loved her. He loved with his whole being, no part of him separate from her.

While he was still on his knees below her, he shoved his tuxedo jacket off his broad shoulders and let it pool on the floor. He undid the buttons of his shirt and yanked it off as well. Then he stood, towering over her, his hands going to his fly. Raina placed her hands on top of his.

"Let me." Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

He nodded and allowed her to unbuckle his belt, undo his button and unzip his fly. She pushed his pants over his hips and down to his feet. As was his usual, Mateo wasn't wearing any underwear.

Raina attempted to drop to her knees, but Mateo stopped her, forcing her to stand straight again. "My woman does not kneel for anyone. You’re my queen, never forget that."

She was awed by his words, the full meaning impacting her as she thought of their future together. Still, she was disappointed. "But what if this queen wants to suck your dick?"

Raina hadn't done that yet. She had never gone down on anyone before. Though they'd spent months exploring each other, this was one thing she hadn't done yet. Mateo hadn’t encouraged it, believing that she would drive him over the edge faster than he wanted.

Of course, Raina had taken that as a challenge and had sought other ways to push him over the edge before he was ready. Mateo usually punished her with more orgasms than she thought her body could take. He was the king of multiple orgasms.

"You will not kneel." Mateo sounded firm and Raina continued to pout as they showered together.

Mateo's hands washed sensually over Raina's body, touching her everywhere, probably more than necessary to get her clean. She didn't mind though. His hands were incredible, and he knew how to use them.

When they finished, he used a new fluffy white towel to dry first her and then him. While he was drying himself, Raina walked back into the bedroom and over to the bed. She cast a look over her shoulder and then reached down to flip the big fluffy quilt over. She smiled as she saw the book on Mateo's side of the bed, sitting on his nightstand. It was a battered copy of Johanna Lindsay's Captive Bride.

Mateo walked up behind her, sliding an arm around her waist, and pulling her against his chest. He put his chin on her head and they stood that way for a few minutes. She could feel his cock between the cheeks of her ass, hard and ready to go, but they needed this moment together first. Breathing in sync, each contemplating their future together.

Finally, Mateo turned her in his arms and dropped his head for a kiss. As his lips held hers, he tried to gently push her down on the bed, but she resisted. He pushed harder; Raina resisted harder. Then, she maneuvered them so that his back was to the bed and she was facing him. She broke the kiss, looked up at him and grinned. Then she used both hands to shove his shoulders.

She should've known he wouldn't actually fall back on the bed as she intended. He frowned down at her as though wondering why the tiny fly was buzzing against his chest. She sighed deeply and rolled her eyes. "Can you please lay down on your back? We’re going to pretend that I aggressively threw you down."

Mateo didn't move. "If you think that you'll be taking the dominant role on our wedding night, you need to think again."

Raina narrowed her eyes at him and stepped up, pressing her bare breasts against his chest. She tilted her chin to stare him in the eyes. "If you ever want a mouth on your dick again, you will lay down on your back, arms behind your head, eyes on the canopy."

To his credit he stood his ground for about twenty more seconds as he tried to determine the importance of blowjobs to his existence, then growled a stream of Spanish swear words, climbed onto the bed and lay down on his back. He followed her instructions to the letter, his hands behind his head, his biceps bulging and his eyes on the canopy.

Raina leapt onto the bed between his legs. She must have scared him because he flinched when she landed. She laughed out loud, then crawled up his legs toward his cock. She really did want to tease him more, but she was also dying to see what he tasted like. She took hold of the base and squeezed. Gently at first and then harder as she realized she could. She leaned over, the wisps of her blond hair having escaped from her intricate updo as she took the tip of his cock into her mouth.

She licked the hole in the top, gathering the moisture there onto her tongue and swallowing. It was salty, but not too salty and not gross as she half expected. She decided she liked it. Then, she sank down further, pushing his cock further into her mouth. She liked the feel. The stretch of her lips and cheek, the silky texture of his skin. She didn't know what to do with her teeth, was afraid she’d accidentally bite him.

Cassie had once told her she shouldn't put teeth on a man's penis, so she tried to avoid it. Cassie had also told Raina that she should probably wrap her lips around her teeth, but when she tried to do that she pictured an old woman whose dentures fell out and then laughed out loud while still sucking Mateo's cock.

Raina ended up drooling on him and had to sit back, wipe her chin, and start again. Mateo continued to look up at the canopy an amused smile on his lips, though he did look strained.

Raina leaned over, took him in hand again and sank her mouth over top of him. This time she pushed a little further, toward the back of her throat, enjoying the feel of his steel threaded cock in her mouth. She pushed it against the top of her mouth then her cheeks, then toward the back again. At first, she had to consciously suppress her gag reflex, but the more she dipped up and down on him the further back she could go.

She was really enjoying herself, finding a nice rhythm and figuring out what to do with her hands. One running up over his chest while the other played with his balls. She liked the nice heavy feeling of them when he was excited. The weight in her palm. She thought that they were rather large although she hadn't seen that many penises or sets of balls in her life. Okay one, she'd seen exactly one. But she'd seen porn and knew for a fact that Mateo definitely stacked up to those other guys.

Mateo let out a grunt, which startled her into rearing back. Apparently, he didn't like that. He took hold of her head and pushed her back down to his cock. She happily took him back into her mouth and allowed him to take more control as he thrust up into her. This made it even harder to suppress her gag reflex, but she managed, only coughing on him a couple times.

"I'm gonna come." His words came out in a garbled grunt that she nearly missed.

Raina knew what it was like for him to come, but not in her mouth. She was curious so she stayed where she was, sucking him deep as he shot his load into her throat. She hadn't expected the warmth or the texture and gagged. She sat back on her heels and stared at him in shock.

Mateo was laying on his back, his legs spread around her hips, one arm thrown over his head. Finally, he moved the arm and caught sight of the expression on her face. He laughed, a full-throated sound that Raina had never heard come from him before.

"You don't have to do that again, mi amor, if you don't like the taste." He sat up and reached for her, gathering her against his chest. He used his thumb to swipe at some leftover come on her lips. He went to wipe it on the quilt, but she caught his hand and pulled it up to her mouth, sucking his thumb and swallowing the rest of the come.

"I was surprised, that's all. I didn't know what to expect. But it wasn't bad, I want to do it again." She reassured him.

He tipped her over onto her back and kissed her all over her face and breasts. "You are perfect, my wife."

She clutched his head and wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him close against her. "We’re perfect together, my gangster."

They made love throughout the night, alternately sleeping and then waking up to explore each other's bodies as though doing it for the first time. They whispered words of love and talked about their future together, finally falling into a deep sleep around dawn, their arms wrapped tightly around each other, Raina's head against Mateo's chest.

Epilogue

One year later

“Hurry up, we’re going to be late.”

Raina didn’t look up from the delicate work she was doing at her desk. “How can we be late for a private jet?”

Mateo made a frustrated sound, one that she was used to. It never failed to make her smile. As much as she loved the man, he was far too serious and needed some contention in his life.

Enter Raina.

“Even private jets have take-off and landing times they need to follow. Now get your ass out of that chair and into the car. You were supposed to be ready hours ago. I don’t even see a carry-on. What are you going to do on our flight over? Count clouds?” Though his words were annoyed, his tone of voice held affection.

This was their dance. A perpetual argument that would always end in Raina getting what she wanted so long as it didn’t impact her health. Raina had wanted to go back to university. They had argued over that, but it had been the specifics, not the overall idea. Mateo loved that Raina wanted to expand her education. He’d been the one to suggest she take fine arts as her major, which was a program she’d never considered. It hadn’t been practical back when she was the daughter of farmers.

Now, Raina was enrolled in one of the most prestigious art schools in the United States, learning new techniques from some of the most skilled teachers in the world. She had used some of her forgeries as part of her application portfolio. The school had been intrigued by her skill and ingenuity and sent her an invitation.

Mateo had been pleased by her acceptance and had treated her to the most amazing night on the town, which, in Miami, was something else. He’d taken her to one of his clubs, having decided not to sell, and up onto a deserted rooftop patio where he’d wined and dined her. Then they’d taken a small airplane to New York where they stayed in the penthouse suite of the Ritz-Carlton.

All this from a man who hadn’t thought himself romantic. Raina thought his romance novels were rubbing off.

No, they hadn’t argued about her intention to go back to school. They had argued about absolutely everything else. How many classes Raina would take per semester, how many hours per day she should study, what snacks she was allowed to eat, how often she took physical activity breaks. If she didn’t love the man so much, she would scream at his overprotectiveness.

Raina decided to battle his extreme behaviour through gentle teasing. In the end, she usually got her way, all she had to do was wait out the beast. But the fights were fun and usually ended up in a bed or a closet somewhere.

Mateo also encouraged Raina to continue with her forgery business. They’d formed a partnership where she could provide documents for some of his contacts, as long as Mateo approved the work. It was a lucrative partnership that made Raina a modestly wealthy woman, independent of her husband’s holdings.

Finally, Raina pushed away from her desk and stretched her neck, working out the kinks. Despite his current annoyance with her, Mateo massaged her neck and back, helping ease some of the tension of the day. Raina closed the project she’d been working on and set it aside for her assistant to mail. Another set of perfect passports finished.

“You’re doing too much,” Mateo said from above her. “I don’t like it.”

She tipped her head up and grinned at him. “You don’t like anything except bubble wrap and Lysol spray.”

Mateo grunted a noncommittal response because they both knew Raina wasn’t wrong. If she allowed him, Mateo would take over her life completely and dictate every moment so she would be as safe as she could possibly be. He would keep her locked up and take her out only when he deemed it perfectly safe. But that was no way to live and Raina was convinced he would love her less if she didn’t make his life hell. Just a little.

“Are you finally ready to leave, mi amor?” His voice became husky, telling Raina that the way he was touching her was turning him on. Her body warmed in response.

“Almost,” she said huskily, standing and turning in his arms.

She stood on her toes and reached up to pull his head down for a kiss. All it took was the innocent touch of her lips to his and then the fire took over. Mateo gripped her by the neck and deepened the kiss, while reaching out and clearing a space on her desk with his other hand. Raina grinned against his lips.

Their delayed honeymoon to Italy would have to wait a few more hours. This was more important.

THE END

Coming soon…

Book Four of the Queens: The Red Queen

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Bonus: The Assassin’s Wife

Tasha dimmed all of the lights except for one, a spotlight. She smiled, pleased, and glided to the center of the floor. She crouched into a bow and held her hand out to an imaginary partner. Her eyes glowed in excitement and, in one lithe, graceful movement, she began to dance.

The world ceased to exist.

She was alone with her imaginary audience, captivating and seducing them with her flawless movements. She used the entire floor space, running and leaping into the air – stretching out her arms and landing gracefully. She twirled and spun, kicked and chased. She danced as though it were her last dance, enjoying every second of it. If she could bottle freedom, this is what it would feel like.

After an hour, the demands of her body began to make themselves known. She was beyond thirsty! She landed a perfect pirouette within the spotlight and swept into a low bow. Coming back to reality, she laughed out loud in sheer delight.

It was heaven to dance again!

Tasha turned to the wall of mirrors and studied herself critically, something all dancers did. She saw a small body, curved a little more than a ballet dancer should be, but she was no longer a professional. She didn’t have to starve herself for the perfect physique. Her back and shoulders were straight, breasts high and pointed, fuller than they used to be. Her legs were long, the calves and thighs strong.

Humming to herself she tip-toed over to her things, flinching. Now that she wasn’t dancing, her poor feet were feeling the punishment of ballet shoes. She picked up her water bottle and took a long drink of the cold, soothing water. In a graceful move, she sat in the shadowy corner next to her belongings by the mats and began some stretches to stop muscle fatigue. She wanted to dance for another hour or so, but her body needed a ten-minute break.

The darkened room in a gym, located in one of the rougher neighborhoods in the city, should have felt creepy, but Tasha never found it so. She had been borrowing it for months now, having negotiated a trifling payment with Jordan, the owner, and secured the key and alarm code. She thought maybe he had a thing for her. Though she didn’t return his affections, she did feel safe in his gym, hidden from the world.

Tasha sat up straight and brought her arms over her head in a long body stretch. She twisted her legs in an ‘S’ sit and felt something bump her shoe. Curiously, she glanced over her shoulder. She had tapped the white box with her foot. It was the unopened delivery that’d been sent to the travel agency earlier in the day.

Deciding now was as good a time as any to go over the promotional material, she reached for the box. She moved her legs into a wide ‘vee’ sit and untied the ribbon holding the box closed. It was fancier than the boxes the usual posters came in. She pushed herself forward, forcing her legs further apart in the stretch.

She flipped the lid off the box and looked down.

“No!” she gasped and pulled her legs in, recoiling.

A wave of dizziness and nausea swept over her. She brought her hands up to her eyes and bowed her head. “No, no, no, no,” she repeated in a horrified moan.

This wasn’t happening!

Maybe she imagined it.

Tasha dropped her hands and reached forward, desperate to prove she was wrong. Shaking fingers lifted a single white lily from the box. Only one man had ever given her flowers. And it had always been white lilies. He’d insisted they had reminded him of his prima ballerina, his little Russian dancer. Graceful, lovely and pure.

Tasha felt suddenly cold in the overheated room.

Then she felt him.

Watching.

Stalking.

She felt like throwing up and actually brought a hand up to cover her throat.

“David,” she whispered brokenly, tears splashing onto her cheeks.

Every instinct in Tasha screamed at her to drop the flower and run from the gym. To flee the danger that had found her, but she knew it was too late. David had finally come for her.

As if to prove her correct, footsteps, so quiet they were almost inaudible approached her from a darkened corner of the gym. She stared in horror as the spectre of a man stopped several feet from her crouched form. He wore expensive black pants with a white collared shirt, buttoned most of the way, but stopping just below his throat. Casual but well dressed.

He was not a massive man in proportions, but his presence was so overwhelming he always seemed bigger. He was much taller than Natasha’s 5’1”. His body was solid with muscles corded beneath his skin, making his lithe strength subtle but deadly. He looked like a killer. He was a killer.

“Natasha.”

She closed her eyes against the deep, accented tones. She hadn’t heard that name since she’d started running. Her name on his lips was chilling and seductive at the same time. He had never been as accomplished at hiding his accent as her.

“Natasha,” he demanded again, much closer this time.

Her eyes flew open and she realized he was standing over her now. She moved to back away from him, away from the deadly intent now clearly visible in the lines bracketing his mouth and the dull acceptance of his eyes. He reached for her, gripping her by the back of the head, catching the strands of hair that had escaped her knot and tugging sharply.

Natasha gasped.

“Stand up,” he said in his quiet, deadly voice.

She allowed him to drag her to her feet by the hair. She used the pain to remind herself of why he’d come. She was so close to him she was able to take in his scent, masculine and seductive. His face was several inches above hers, his eyes devouring her features. He continued to hold her loosely by the back of the head, his other hand hung with fist clenched. As though he had to stop himself from grabbing her. Or hitting her.

His only betrayal of emotion.

Heat radiated from him, warming her skin where they nearly touched. Fury combined with lust assaulted her senses. His black eyes roved over her, taking in every nuance. He looked like a man who had been starved and she was the meal denied him.

Her body screamed at her to run, but a small part also responded to the magnetic pull of the man that held her life in his hands. She ached for him to kiss her. She felt like laughing at the bitter humor of the situation. What kind of woman wanted the man that was about to murder her to kiss her senseless?

The kind of women that knew what it felt like to be made love to by this man.

“Two years, Natasha.” Anger strained the low tones of his voice.

She nodded mutely. It had been two years since they had last seen each other. Since the day she had run from him in fear for her life. Since the day she had watched him execute another man as he begged for his life and then walk away as though it meant nothing to him. The day she had discovered that, rather than having an affair, as she had suspected, her husband had been killing people.

A contract killer.

“You look the same, my wife. Perhaps more beautiful than I remembered.”

Tasha shifted on her feet very subtly, suspecting that he would detect any tension in her body. She lifted her chin and looked coldly into his flat, black eyes. “You look older, husband.”

A slight lifting at the corner of David’s mouth was all the acknowledgment her insult produced. He did look older. The lines in his face had deepened, chiseling his sharp features in granite. His dark mahogany hair now had strands of grey that hadn’t been there before. He had never been a handsome man, but there had always been a magnetic quality that had drawn her interest. Now she suspected it had been his deadly intensity that had attracted her to him.

“You still dance like an angel,” he said matter-of-factly.

He had always loved her ability to dance. Watching her dance was one of the few times his face would smooth out and the intense scrutiny would disappear. He shifted ever so slightly and frowned, as though restless and annoyed that he cared about her dancing still. He hadn’t meant to speak of it.

Never one to waste an opportunity, Tasha smiled up at him angelically and said, “That’s not all I do well husband,” before bringing her leg up in a powerful kick that connected with his knee.

Surprise, then cold fury flashed across his face as the knee crumpled and hit the ground. He had never been taken by surprise before, which was another reason this woman shouldn’t exist any longer. Knowing he had to end it once and for all, he reached out swiftly and took hold of her wrist before she could run from him. He twisted brutally.

Tasha cried out and dropped to her knees in front of him. He swung his arm around to catch her neck in the crook of his arm. Before he could wrench her neck, Tasha sent her elbow backwards into his solar plexus, driving the air from his lungs. She followed it with another elbow to his head that sent him reeling back, breaking his hold on her. It was clear she intended to cause maximum damage while defending her life.

David had been holding back. Reluctant to damage her, even knowing the outcome was inevitable. He no longer had a choice. Swiftly he backhanded her, snapping her head back and sending her body flying into the floor to ceiling mirror. She landed with a pained moan, but quickly tried to get up.

He pulled a gun from the holster under his arm and pointed it at her.

She screamed and dropped to the floor again on her hands and knees. She stared up at him, tears bright in her eyes. Slowly, she raised her chin. Wordlessly, she told him to get on with it.

David stared at the beautiful, disheveled woman with cold intent. He needed to kill her. He couldn’t have loose ends. He’d always known that one day she would have to die by his hand. Assassins couldn’t have weakness. She was his single obsession. Marrying her had always been an indulgence he knew he couldn’t afford. But he’d intended for her end to be peaceful. Not like this.

Natasha shouldn’t have fought back. He could have spared her this horror.

“Do it, you bastard!” she hissed at him.

His eyes went from ice to fire so quickly she gasped and pressed herself back against the mirror. His hand shook.

Seconds passed.

A minute.

She wondered if it would hurt badly. If she could still be so brave once she was laying on the floor bleeding out in front of him.

He swore savagely in Russian before lifting the gun and emptying it into the mirror above her head. Natasha screamed as shards of glass fell over and around her. She held her breath waiting for the fire of a bullet to rip through her flesh. For darkness to claim her. She huddled on the floor, arms over her head, harsh gasps sounding in her ear.

Natasha stayed that way for a few long moments after David had finished firing. A quick inventory of her body revealed that she had not yet been shot. Slowly, she lowered her arms, slivers of mirror sliding off as she moved. She dared to look up, terrified eyes seeking out her would-be executioner.

David lowered his arm, the silenced pistol now pointed at the floor. He shook his head as though to clear it. The look on his harsh face was a mix of annoyance and resignation. He closed the distance between them, his shoes crushing the shards of glass as he got closer. Natasha tried to back away, certain he was coming closer to put a bullet in her head, but winced when glass slivers bit into her knee.

“Stop,” he barked.

Natasha froze, a whimper escaping her throat. He holstered his weapon and reached for her. He pulled her straight up by the waist, the muscles under his shirt rippling as he lifted her out of the mess of broken glass. She gasped when he set her on her feet and began brushing bits of mirror from her shoulders and hair, his touch impersonal. Anger still radiated from him in waves, but he had himself back under control. He was once more the icy assassin.

Natasha shivered. Lifting her chin, she said as bravely as she could, “You didn’t shoot me.”

“No,” he answered. His dark gaze roving over, possessive, starving and furious.

“But you were planning on k-killing me, weren’t you?” Her voice wavered, but she attempted to hold his gaze steadily.

He looked down into her bottomless aqua eyes for a moment, his steely grip continuing to hold her immobile. Finally, he answered, “Yes Natasha, I had planned on killing you.”

A distressed noise escaped her throat before she could stop it. She pressed the back of her hand hard against her lips, attempting to stop the panicked sounds from escaping her. She wanted to be strong right now, she really did. She wanted to face her end with dignity. But when faced with the terrifying reality of her own demise, she was left feeling shaken and weak. She didn’t want to die!

“Have you changed your mind?” Her whisper was pleading.

She didn’t realize that the words she spoke were those of her childhood language: Russian.

David sighed heavily, his muscles tensed and pressed hard against her smaller body. He inclined his head slightly. “Yes, Natasha, I have changed my mind. I find I can’t bring myself to end you.”

She let the words wash over her and closed her eyes in momentary relief. He wasn’t going to kill her.

“But you’re still a big fucking problem for me.”

Natasha flinched. David had never been anything but polite and courteous when speaking to her. Her eyes swept up, dark blue, big and innocent, wet with unshed tears. Her eyes had always held such sway over him. In the two years since she had been running from him he had forgotten, perhaps purposely, how lovely and revealing those eyes were. His cock hardened as she continued to look up at him.

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked softly.

Looking down at the wife he had been stalking for two years, erotic images flooded his brain, of all the things she could do for him. Natasha on her knees, her tongue and mouth around his cock. Natasha bent over the nearest table with him balls deep in her cunt from behind. Natasha begging him for mercy as he pounded into her, showing her none, because he would have his revenge on his wayward wife.

David nearly groaned out loud. He wanted her now. Here in this room where she had sweated and worked alongside the younger Jordan, allowing the man to touch her small body while she learned how to fight her husband. Perhaps David would come back and kill the other man for daring to lay hands on his wife. Had there been others since him? Natasha had always been a passionate woman. It seemed impossible that she had remained celibate for two years.

Yes, she would pay dearly for that too.

His wife had never known his brutal side. The side of him that made him one of the most successful assassins in the world. He had always been so careful that she should be his cherished little doll when they were living together as man and wife. No more. He would have all kinds of fun fucking out his revenge on his beautiful little wife and showing her what kind of monster she had married. He would give free rein to every dark thought he had ever had about her sweet little body. He would never let her get away from him again.

His dark eyes held her anxious ones, merciless. “You will resume your role as my wife, darling Natasha.”

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Bonus: Fear in Her Eyes

He didn't believe in telepathy or the unexplained. He thought if there wasn't an explanation for something, then that explanation just hadn't been discovered yet. The fact that he knew Addison Sterling was standing down the hall on the other side of a solid steel door from where he stood was simply heightened senses and intuition. He was in tune with this woman's every movement, every breath, every heartbeat. He imagined, if he closed his eyes he would know at any given moment where she stood in her apartment. Right now she was preparing to leave, like she did every morning at the same time. If she belonged to him, he would break her of that dangerous habit.

Lucky for her, she would never belong to him.

She stepped out of her door and turned gracefully on her ballet flats, her long white and blue pattered dress swishing around her legs. Her long, slim fingers unerringly found the lock on the door, where she inserted the key as she'd done a thousand times and turned it. Dropping the key into a small knit purse, which was strapped across her body, separating the lovely mounds of her breasts over the elasticized top of her summer dress. She bent her knees and reached to pick up the leather case containing her cello.

As he did every morning when he came down to her floor, he ruthlessly stopped himself from reaching out to snatch the case from her, the muscles under his shirt bunching in anger. The case was too big for her. She was too fragile. She loved it too much, far more than she loved anything else. He wanted to take it from her and destroy it. Which confused him. He didn't usually have impulse control issues.

She strode confidently toward the elevator, stopping only steps from where he stood, and reached for the button, her fingers so close to his stomach she nearly touched him. He planned it that way, imagined for a second what it would feel like if she did touch him. The elevator dinged, letting her know it had arrived. She waited for approximately three heartbeats and then stepped forward as the doors swished back. He stepped out in unison. As the doors closed, she turned to face them. He used the sound of the elevators closing to move swiftly around her.

Confident she was alone, she relaxed her stance, allowing her shoulders to soften. He stood so close to her back that if she'd leaned just a little she would've touched him. It was worth the risk for him to be able to reach out and touch the ends of her soft, wavy chestnut hair. To lean in close and smell the delicate tropical, flowery lotion she used on her skin after her morning shower. He inhaled deeply, savouring her scent, imagining her in the marble bathroom of her condo, naked, rubbing the hemp lotion over her curves in circular motions, as was her routine.

In his desperation to be near Addison, he must've gotten closer than he'd dared before, because she suddenly went rigid beneath the shadow of his body. Her face snapped to the side, her lips nearly brushing his where he'd bent into her neck. Her blank, dark eyes were wide with apprehension.

He stopped breathing. Not for fear of being caught. He was more than capable of taking down a dozen mercenaries, let alone one small blind woman. No, he needed to protect her. For some reason he cared for Addison Sterling, and if he got involved with her, he would hurt her, probably irreparably. The black part of his soul already called for him to reach out and grab her, to make her beg, to subjugate her, to hunt, hurt and humiliate her. Already, he couldn't leave her alone. He'd never experienced such driving need to possess a woman. At best he usually considered them unnecessary distractions that he usually avoided.

Somehow Addison was different.

"Is someone there?" she whispered, the sweet warmth of her breath rushing over him.

His cock answered her, though he stayed silent. His pupils dilated and he vibrated with the effort not to grab her, pin her to the wall of the elevator, tear her ugly dress away, force her onto her knees and enjoy the fear in her eyes while he took that beautiful mouth of hers.

The door dinged and Addison jumped, her head snapping forward once more. She visibly shook herself, pushing her shoulders back and forcing her confidence back on like a cloak of independence she wore whenever she left her apartment. "Stupid Addie," she said beneath her breath, before stepping off the elevator. He watched her like the predator he was as she shook open her white walking cane, smiled and cheerfully greeted the concierge. The elevator doors closed, cutting off his view of her. He wanted to go after her. To follow her and speak to her like a normal man would.

He couldn't. He was a savage through and through. He'd seen and done things normal men couldn't even imagine. That was why he was Tyson King's head of security. That was why he couldn't have Addison Sterling.

Unfortunately for her, he couldn't seem to let her go. Her lush curves, delicate beauty and helpless attempts at independence called to the predator in him like nothing else. He knew, eventually, he would answer that call.

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Also by Nikita Slater

If you enjoyed this book, check out some other works by #1 International Bestselling Author, Nikita Slater. More titles are always in progress, so check back often to see what's new!

Angels & Assassins Series

Book One – The Assassin’s Wife

The Queens Series

Book One – Scarred Queen

Book Two - Queen’s Move

Book Three - Born a Queen

Book Four - The Red Queen (Coming 2021)

Alejandro’s Prey (a novella)

Fire & Vice Series

Book One – Prisoner of Fortune

Book Two – Fight or Flight

Book Three – King’s Command

Book Four – Savage Vendetta

Book Five – Fear in Her Eyes

Book Six – Bound by Blood

Book Seven – In His Sights

Book Eight - Burning Beauty

Book Nine - Chasing Ecstasy (Coming soon!)

The Driven Hearts Series

Book One - Driven by Desire

Book Two - Thieving Hearts

Book Three - Capturing Victory

Novella - The Princess and Her Mercenary

The Sanctuary Series

Book One - Sanctuary’s Warlord

Book Two - Sanctuary on Fire

Book Three - The Last Sanctuary

Book Four - The Road to Wolfe (Coming soon!)

Standalone books

Because You're Mine

Mine to Keep (a novella)

Luna & Andres

Loving Vincent

Stalked

After Dark

In collaboration with Jasmin Quinn

Collared: A Dark Captive Romance

Safeword: A Dark Romance

Chained: A Mafia Marriage Romance

Good Girl: A Captive BDSM Romance

Hostile Takeover: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

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About the Author

Nikita Slater is the International Bestselling dark romance author of the Fire & Vice series, Angels & Assassins series, The Queens series and several standalone novels. Her favourite genre is mafia romance, the bloodier the better, though she loves to write about every subject under the sun. She lives on the beautiful Canadian prairies with her son and crazy awesome dog. She has an unholy affinity for books (especially erotic romance), wine, pets and anything chocolate. Despite some of the darker themes in her books (which are pure fun and fantasy), Nikita is a staunch feminist and advocate of equal rights for all races, genders and non-gender specific persons. When she isn't writing, dreaming about writing or talking about writing, she helps others discover a love of reading and writing through literacy and social work.

Table of Contents

Cover
Copyright
Contents
Dedication

Scarred Queen

- Contents
- Fucking Obsessed with You
- Part I
- 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
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Part II
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37

Alejandro’s Prey

- Contents
- Untitled
- 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
- Chapter 16
- Epilogue

Queen’s Move

- Contents
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- 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
- 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
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Epilogue

Born a Queen

- Contents
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- 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
- 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
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Epilogue
- Coming soon…
- Nikita’s Newsletter!
- Bonus: The Assassin’s Wife
- Bonus: Fear in Her Eyes
- Also by Nikita Slater
- Stay connected with Nikita!
- Nikita’s Underworld!
- About the Author