Page 14 of Hostile Heir

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I throttle the grip of my own gun. “I don’t take orders from anyone.”

Even though I’m riddled with a bloodthirsty need, my tone belies the slip of control. I see double Diegos and my heart rate has elevated higher than the screening palms.

“I’m in charge of the whole motherfucking show now—me.” Carina sways into me, her own dizziness making her weak. The heat of her body next to mine does something unheard of. It grounds me like an anchor amidst the mental fracas.

I suck in a gust and simultaneously squeeze her wrist until I’m certain it’s just hysteria getting the better of me.

Then I exhale slowly before continuing. “I’ll stake my claim as head of the Souza cartel. And after this evening's war, I demand answers. This woman has those answers, you dumb fuck.”

Diego tries to speak, but it's too late. He wanted a show of strength and that’s what he gets.

Bang.

His heavy corpse drops, and my adrenaline flies off the charts. Carina flinches, her muscles tense, following my erratic gesture. But it wasn’t really a thoughtless act. Diego was my father’s special tasks lieutenant, which meant he had no boundaries or moral code. A warped bastard who had taunted the mute little boy left in shock after his uncle's death. I swore I’d kill the fucker when the time was right, and that time is now.

Papá was suspicious of everyone, because Diego Ramirez systematically poisoned his mind. When I suggested getting rid of him, my father stuck a knife to my throat and asked what I was hiding from him. From that day on, I made it my mission to do my own thing while respecting his authority. But the hate for the man now lying on the ground never went away.

My glare scours the rest of the men idly standing by in position to either support me or try to take me down.

“Anyone else want to challenge my authority?” I don’t have to yell to be heard. Each of them witnesses my chest heave as quick breaths flare my nostrils. They know better than to question me and face death without hesitation.

“Good. I’m in charge of the operation now, like I said. Arrange for our men to guard the house tonight. Shane…” I turn into him. “We’ll talk later. Right now, I have unfinished business to take care of. Let the dogs out.”

4

TOMÁS

With one ruthless yank, Carina falls into line behind me.

Together, we pass each of the men vying for justice. She stumbles in a half bowed position, unable to free herself from my clutches.

Brutus and Sniper, my fiendish German Shepherds, bolt free of the property. They brush past my legs on the hunt for fresh blood, sniffing the dried plasma both Carina and I share.

My father’s blood.

She doesn’t make a sound as Sniper runs his inquisitive wet nose over her bare legs. When he flicks out his tongue to taste her salty skin, my chest implodes. Even my dog is captivated by her.

Shane whistles and the curious duo dart off into the shadows. In the half-light crossing over the threshold, I catch my reflection in the glare of the bi-fold doors. I’m surrounded by judging eyes and the city lights of a kingdom I now control.

I’m a man unhinged by sorrow, raised in warfare, and brainwashed into believing violence is the only answer. The pitiful woman trailing in the wake of my storm is an unfortunate slave snared on a merciless hook.

I barely recognize myself anymore, if I ever really knew who the man inside me should be. I’ve lived in the shadow of fate for too long. Hiding in the darkness of a gruesome deed carried out by a young boy. And now, history repeated itself twenty-four years later.

Beyond the need for bloodshed lives a new infestation. A surge of lust so powerful that it’s choking me with every glance at the little liar.

She’s in my home now.

Under my control.

Mine.

“Please…” she hiccups, and I almost buckle with an odd sensation of empathy. “I had nothing to do with it.”

I ignore her pleas. Simply because I’m not in the mood to debate her involvement or talk about what will happen next.

She falls silent when her explanation receives a cold shoulder, and we climb the spiral staircase to my suite. This isn’t the plan. Then again, shooting my father in the forehead wasn’t on my agenda for the evening either.

My stomach physically heaves at the thought of him. I’m retching and simultaneously twisting away to hide my inner struggle. I’m driven to wreak havoc and she’s back for more. Whatever happens in the coming hours can only distract me from what will happen tomorrow.


Tags: Autumn Archer Romance