Page 73 of Hostile Heir

Page List


Font:  

My jaw ticks as my teeth clench. “Take a seat, Roberto. The ceremony is about to start,” I say with forced control. “It’s time to say goodbye to the old and make way for the new.”

The low-lying mist topping undulating lush hills has long receded. An earthy breeze carries murmurs from the few seated guests we invited. They congregate in rows before the gold-plated casket on a wheeled trolley, protected from drizzle under a cream marquee adorned with garlands of vermillion roses.

Roberto shakes my hand. “It’s a sad day. You’ve big shoes to fill. Don’t let him down.” His lewd gaze slides to Carina for the last time before he shuffles to the seating area.

When he’s out of earshot, I deliberately let go of her. “Stay away from him. He’s bad news.”

Her head whips around, bringing soft hair close to my nostrils. The subtle floral scent of the body wash I’d arranged for her wafts with the ticklish strands. That feminine smell lacing her skin has my engine growling to life.

We’re surrounded by dense rainforest and abundant coffee fields. If I wasn’t up first with the speeches, I’d drag her into the undergrowth and cut the dress right off her. I know she’s wearing a black lace bra underneath, because I watched her dress while I forced my hands to stay pocketed. So far, my plan to show her who’s in control is slowly falling apart.

“Really?” she snips, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I hadn’t noticed. I was hoping you’d loan me to him for a whole afternoon. What fun that would be! I’m sure he has plenty of expertise, given his old age.” She fingers the tips of her hair while looking to the sky.

I’m livid, seething with a powerful force of jealousy. How dare she even joke about being with that fucker for even a second? I know she doesn’t mean it. What woman in their right mind would go near a decrepit cunt like him? It doesn’t matter, possessiveness slithers through me with minuscule grappling hooks that burrow into my organs, muscles, and bone.

Her lips pull in, guilt for her outburst painting her cheeks pink. “However, I agreed to your terms. So, I’m yours for now.”

I cock my head. “Mine?”

“Your employee.” She corrects.

“Exactly.” Cuffing her wrist, I drag her off the walkway, where we slip behind the thick trunk of an ancient Colombian oak tree with wavy-edged leaves.

She gasps when I yank her into my chest so we’re suffocatingly close and secretly stuff her hand against the erection straining behind my zipper. I hear her swallow as my lips descend to the shell of her ear.

“Don’t joke about being with another man,” I hiss, for her ears only. “I jerked myself off thinking about you last night.” My voice is thick with frustration. “Stroke after stroke, I throttled my dick, while I imagined your bouncy tits and your tight little hole sucking me in.”

I’ve often played out fantasies in my mind and then turned them into reality, however nothing could have prepared me for the horny thoughts I had of Carina. They made me come so hard that my muscles ached afterward.

“Want to know why I didn’t sleep in the same bed as you?” Her chest lifts as her fingertips graze my lapels for support. “Because your mouth has become a dangerous addiction. It sickens me to want to fuck it so much.” The small gasp of air she sips steals a piece of my self-control. “I think about it every second of the day, in ways I shouldn’t. Not to mention how striking you looked with my blood on your skin and how it didn’t faze you to ride my dick while you were covered in it.” I repress a groan when my voice lowers to a seething growl. “Even now, minutes before I say goodbye to my father, I’m thinking of fucking you in the wild.”

Sucking in a shallow breath, she leans backward, her gaze snaring mine. “Well, I had a wonderful sleep last night. I stretched out like a starfish. The mattress was comfy, the sheets were so soft, and the pillows were just right.” Even though she smiles sweetly, I watch the vein in her neck pump faster. “The sooner you bury him, the faster this nightmare is all over for the both of us.”

I release her like I’ve snipped the anchor to my prized speedboat. In a whirlwind of sable hair and angry footsteps, she hurries back onto the sheltered planks, weaves through the last guests still standing and sits in the back row. I could order her to move to the front beside my allocated seat next to my mother, and risk highlighting to the fake friends and long distance family members in attendance that she’s significant, or I can let her stew.

Slowly repositioning my painful dick, I thumb my cufflinks and check the knot in my tie is neatly displayed. When I’m content, my suit is immaculately presented, I signal to a nearby guard to watch her.

I skirt the rows to join my brothers by the casket, kiss my mother on the cheek, and take my position as the head of the family.

After each of us vocalizes our sentiments, my brothers and I collect the machine guns waiting upright on stands. We line up along the length of his coffin, keeping our backs to the crowd. After the count of three, we take aim at the clouds and fire. Bullets spew out at the sprawling horizon, pummeling the peacefulness to signify the finality of our father’s reign.

Souzas live by the bullet and we die by the bullet. That’s who we are.

We’re the men mothers warn their virginal daughters about. Criminals who rule the underworld. Crooked billionaires who walk with legal professionals and federal agents. Killers who terminate when necessary.

Emptying every last cartridge, we drape the guns over our shoulders, and each take a corner of the wheeled trolley. Together, we maneuver the gemstone encrusted coffin to the yawning mouth of a man-made path. Flaming tiki torches fringe both sides like a runway, illuminating the darkness where bushy foliage and low-hanging branches create a natural arched tunnel.

“Finally.” André smirks when we leave the mourners behind. “Did Papá arrange for crates of booze in his tomb? You know, to sit beside the arsenal of weapons he’ll never use.”

I shrug, doing my best to steer the fucking thing while André removes his hands to light a cigarette. “Hurry the fuck up, Dré, or he’ll end up rolling off the boards.”

“Fuck him,” Gio pipes up from the rear. “He was always rolling off the boards. Doing his own crazy shit.”

“Christ, Gio. Not today. At least wheel him into the tomb first.” Matheus groans. “He wasn’t the stereotypical father, but look at the lives we have. We at least owe the guy an honorable send off.”

“I owe him fuck all,” Gio bites back.

André glances over his shoulder, his face dancing with flickering shadows. “You need to get fucked up today, brother. That’ll help with all that pent up tension.” He chuckles. “The guy’s dead. You’re free of him. We all are. Now you have to take orders from this asshole, right here.” He winks at me, ash tumbling when he jabs his two fingers in my direction. “I have a feeling things will be different from now on.”


Tags: Autumn Archer Romance