“Okay,” Shane replies with an exhausted sigh. “Aside from beating the guts out of the tight lipped Halcones, there’s one more matter to clear up.” I hear his boots hit the coffee table as he slouches into the sofa. “Apparently, there’s a fancy-ass wedding to plan. When the fuck were you going to tell me you're engaged to Bianca Morales? Not only is she young, she’s fucking gorgeous. You lucky son of a bitch.”
* * *
Sniper stirs beside me on the sofa.
Instinctively, I check for my piece, finding it on the coffee table where I’d left it. He lifts his nose, sniffs, and then rests his chin on my thigh. Even though he’s settled again, the hairs on my neck lift in warning. I rotate my wrist to check the time. It’s early morning, minutes before sunrise.
The glass in my hand is empty, drained only an hour ago before I dozed off. Shane dragged his ass to the spare room after our fifth drink together, giving me alone time to call my family with the news. I’d held off as long as I could. No one should have to tell their brothers their father was gunned down in an alleyway. The discrete detail of the final bullet will be my secret to carry to my own grave.
One after the other, I repeated the same phrase.Papá was assassinated in Bogotá this evening. I lost his ring in the street, but I’ve got men searching for it. I’ll find the fuckers who did this and kill everyone they’ve ever known.
And it’s true. Whoever targeted us would regret the decision to start a war with the Souzas.
Footsteps lower from step to step, descending the staircase. I know it’s not Shane’s usual stomp, because he’s heavy footed. My housekeeper wouldn’t be here for another few hours. These steps are elegant, graceful... Carina.
Unlike the first time I stashed her in my bedroom at the plantation so my father didn’t find out she was indoors, I hadn’t felt the need to lock her in my master suite on this occasion, given there’s no way she can escape the compound without being noticed.
The second she goes for a door; my dogs would bark and quite possibly maul her to death if I give the command. For some reason, that thought jostles my deficient conscience.
I stay still, intrigued by her diligently careful movements. Carina assesses her new surroundings, glides behind me, flanking the wall, and disappears into the kitchen. After a few minutes, a shiver, like someone’s walking over my shallow grave, sprinkles me with goosebumps. She quietly rounds the sofa and stops for a beat, catching sight of my false slumber.
I’m vulnerable and in an unparalleled position for a bullet to the heart, should she decide that's the route to take.
Instead of reaching for the handgun beside the empty liquor bottle, she sighs softly. That secret little exhale tells me she’s reflecting. Either debating or remembering. And I need to know exactly what’s running through that confusing mind of hers. I want to find out every little thing there is to know about her.
With my eyes still shut, I hear an odd noise, like munching. It rolls through the morning stillness and lessens when she moseys to the glass doors. Aware her back is turned, I squint, secretly lifting my lashes a fraction to spy on my curious captive.
And there she is, with one of my pressed shirts buttoned once in the middle and the tails teasing her mid-thigh. Rich white material veils her smooth skin, complementing long wavy strands and showcasing eternal fiery eyes. The same sable hair I want to wrap around my fist spills over narrow shoulders, the strands so dark they could be woven from sin itself.
She stuffs a small hand into a jumbo cereal box of frosted flakes and stops next to Brutus. He shifts to sit and raises his somber gaze to meet her quiet intrigue.
I quietly scoot upright to watch their interaction, knowing he’s a grumpy fucker most of the time. One wrong move and he’d go straight for her jugular. One command from me and he’d sit obediently without hurting her.
“Hey…” she whispers. “Are you trapped indoors, too?” Then she slowly offers him a sugar-coated cornflake. “Don’t tell anyone we’re having breakfast together.” I hold my breath for the second it takes him to gently accept the treat. “Good boy. Let’s get out of here.”
What the fuck?
Carina sets the cereal carton on the ground, heaves the hefty glass door aside, scoops the box under her arm and rubs his muzzle. “Come on, big guy,” she whispers.
To my shock and annoyance, Brutus obediently follows her out onto the stone terrace and calmly stares up at her while she takes in my secured paradise. The men have moved to the front of the property in preparation for the day ahead. However, the electric gates at either side won’t open without a key fob and beyond the screening trees at the edge of the flourishing garden there’s a deadly drop.
With a long sigh, she accepts there’s no escape, unties her laces and kicks off the clunky boots. My chest nearly implodes when Brutus strolls by her heels and happily plonks himself beside her as she lowers to the edge of the pool and slips her bare feet into the otherwise undisturbed water.
Slashes of pomegranate pink burst from the horizon, illuminating the skyline behind them. The view is fucking stunning with her in it and just like every other time she’s been in my company, the traitorous rhythm of my heart skips a beat.
My untrusting dog and exquisite prisoner share crunchy cornflakes on my sunny terrace like the world is simple. Low rising rays catch in clusters of verdant ferns, dappling the precisely paved pool area where she sits. It had cost a small fortune for a high-end landscape team to create a sophisticated sanctuary where I could relax, but nothing they designed looks as inviting as that woman on the pool edge. Her ease of presence in my domain unsettles my mood.
I stay on the couch and survey the unmatched pair together. Then I wonder if they aren’t that dissimilar and all three of us are fucked up beyond repair.
He’s somewhat content, and she appears momentarily angelic under the rising sun. It both angers and breeds jealousy within me. I jump up and grab my piece, confused by the swell in my chest. What she’s doing is criminal.
In a few long strides, I’m outdoors. As if sensing my approach, she stops talking to Brutus and turns, her gaze pinpointing me like a dart.
“Oh... you’re up.” She pops a cornflake into her lush mouth and crunches with purposeful intent. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Want some frosted flakes?”
Carina waggles the box at me, doing her best to look all sweet and innocent. After last night, we both know she’s far from incorruptible.
“I don’t eat that shit. Those are Shane’s.” I fold my arms over my bare chest, the gun in my hand pointed away from her.