“You’re paying attention.” She smiled.
“Do you give your little warning to all the guests?”
“Yes. It comes with the down payment.”
The outrageous down payment bought him all the luxuries of an all-inclusive resort. Only here, the massages came with happy endings, and the whiskey was served with a side of cocaine. Pampering the guests was a small cost to the cartel, considering the amount of money they received at the end.
The going rate for a sex slave? Upper six digits.
Eight years ago, a buyer had paid close to a million dollars for Luke. When Liv had delivered him to the sadist, he’d stared straight into the man’s gaze, knowing he was seconds from being handed off and forced to spend the rest of his life doing more than just sucking the fucker’s cock. In that defining moment, shackled in the grip of those heartless eyes, he saw the place where the souls of evil were punished and tormented. He saw the face of hell and the terrifying power it held.
With a hard blink, he squared his shoulders and locked down the memory.
He needed a shower.
Prowling through the bathroom, he counted only one camera. Tomas would check every shadow, crack, and corner to verify that.
The wet room went on forever. At least three times the size of the bedroom he no longer had in Texas. The Freedom Fighters recently sold that house and moved to the Restrepo Cartel headquarters in Colombia. It was safer for them there, luxuriously furnished, and closer to the trafficking operations Camila was targeting.
But it wasn’t home. He’d never really had a place to call home. Before Van, he’d never experienced the comfort of money. He had plenty of it now. Over six-hundred-thousand dollars. All Van’s slaves had received a cut from his operation when he shut it down and grew a conscience.
Multiple floating vanities and countless jets and shower heads jutted from the bathroom walls. A modern, freestanding tub sat at the center, surrounded by a sleek use of white stone materials, giving the room a rich, clean look.
“Did you read the specifications I sent?” He began to undress, toeing off his shoes and draping his clothes neatly over a white settee.
“Yes.” Her breathing quickened as she inched toward the door. “I’ll just let you—”
“Turn around.” Stripped down to his pants, he approached her on bare feet and angled her to face one of the full-length mirrors. “Tell me what I want.”
“Early twenties, brown eyes, black hair, slender build…” Her mouth pinched into a line as she regarded her reflection, which embodied the specifications.
“I requested you.”
“You requested a Latina. There are plenty here to choose from.”
He wanted to say her sister’s name and watch her reaction. But exposing his connection would be suicide. Vera was one of them.
“How much for you?” He edged closer, his chest touching her back as he met her gaze in the mirror.
“I’m not for sale.”
“Everything has a price. Who do I speak to about your ownership?”
Her nostrils widened with a sharp inhale. “No one owns me.”
“Not yet.” He unbuckled his belt and opened his zip, noting her flush at the sounds of him undressing. “When I want something, I take it. I’m very good at that—taking, consuming, fucking. You’ll learn this soon enough, whether you’re watching me with another or riding me yourself. Which will it be?”
“I’ve seen it all, handsome. Not interested.”
“You’re going to swallow those words, right along with the load I shoot down your pretty throat. After you beg for it.”
She shivered, ruining her attempt at indifference.
With a smirk, he let his breath trickle against her neck. She made a small noise, and he stepped back, shedding the last of his clothes. Then he ambled to the far wall and turned on the shower heads.
“Dinner and entertainment begin at seven on the veranda.” She spun away, heading for the exit.
“Vera.”
She kept walking, face forward, and vanished around the corner.
He’d scared her. Shaken her. Sent her running right out the door.
Damn, that was easy.
Too easy.CHAPTER 3Warm water blasted Luke’s body, washing away the long day of traveling. Slowly, his muscles unclenched, releasing knots he hadn’t realized were there.
To think, he’d only been at the compound for an hour. This job could last days. Weeks. He wasn’t leaving until it was finished.
Amid the rising steam, Tomas entered the wet room, his gaze darting, sweeping for hidden technology. Luke left him to it, closing his eyes and running soap through his hair.
Until something screeched across the floor. A loud crash followed. What the—?
He turned as Tomas set down a heavy chair, which had apparently just been swung at the camera in the ceiling. Plastic pieces crunched beneath Tomas’ boot. Pulverized. That must’ve been the only camera. Tomas wasn’t looking anywhere but at his mechanical watch. Checking the time.
The cartel would come, and the speed of their arrival would indicate how closely they were monitoring them. With so many cameras on the property, there would be a security room with multiple eyes on dozens of screens. It would also have views of the surrounding landscape so they could see a threat approaching before it arrived.