Devil's Claim: A Dark Mafia Romance (Devil's Syndicate Book 2), page 5
Her frown was followed by a scowl before she shifted her gaze down to my boots. “Not dressed like that. I assume you don’t have a suit hiding in the outside bushes.”
“I’m afraid my trip abroad didn’t include social events.”
“Then while I go to work, I guess you’re going shopping.”
“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to do that.”
“What exactly?”
“Go to work. However, from what you’ve told me, your experiences working there are unpleasant. I assure you I’ll make the time spent with me worth your while.”
“Whoa. Hold on.” She seemed incredulous. “Let me get this straight. You want to in a sense hire me to work with you to lure my pseudo friend—okay, a bitch, but still—into some compromising position.”
“Certainly not like what you and I have shared. I only need an indication of where the man she’s been dating could be hiding.”
“She dates like ten guys at one time. What’s this particular rich dude to you? And yes, she won’t date anyone who doesn’t have money and power.”
“Let’s just say he’s public enemy number one.”
Her look hardened, which created another wave of amusement. If she had any understanding of just how dangerous I was, it didn’t show in her expression.
“What if I don’t want to help you?”
“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to say no, Christine.”
“So, I am your prisoner.”
“Let’s just say we’re intimate compatriots in a war worth winning. Now, get some sleep.”
She studied me for a full minute before reaching for her phone. I placed my hand on hers.
“I’m afraid I’ll need to babysit your phone for tonight.”
“Of course you’d say that. You don’t trust me,” she spit out.
“Do you trust me?”
“I don’t know you, but the fact you continue to threaten me doesn’t exactly endear you to my heart.”
Her defiance was such a huge turn-on. “Understandable.” I really liked this girl. She had yet to hesitate to give me backtalk. That was an admirable trait in my position. Most women either feared me because of what I’d done to their mate or attempted to seduce me, neither of which was appealing in the least.
A part of me could see myself taking her with me when I returned to Barcelona. The thought was tempting, but impractical. As hardheaded as she’d shown herself to be, she’d never accept what my life or my business entailed. It wasn’t easy to be the main squeeze of a cartel dictator. Every day her life would be on the line.
Besides, I wasn’t romantic nor was I a hero, which I truly believed she needed. Whatever cards she’d been dealt in her life had taken more than just finances and a job she loved away from her.
She jerked her hand away, doing her best to keep from touching me again as she gulped the rest of her wine.
“Keep your bedroom door cracked, Christine.”
Huffing, she threw me an extremely hateful look. “Why, yes, sir, Mr. Bad Guy.”
Leaving the glass on the counter, she finally walked away.
But not before shooting me a scathing glare.
Once she’d disappeared, I shook my head.
What in the fuck had I gotten myself involved in?
The scent of sex remained in the air, enough of a draw I gritted my teeth. She deserved to enjoy her life, not just suffer through it. At least through tomorrow, the two of us could pretend and I could shower her with a few necessities.
A win-win if you asked me.
All for an introduction and nothing more.
I headed to the back door, carefully pulling the blinds aside so I could look outside. After a few minutes of scanning the area, I determined the enemy soldiers had likely given up for the night. How they’d learned of my arrival into the country was something I’d need to ascertain, but at this point, the best thing to do was to follow through with the new plan.
No matter how unconventional it was.
After checking the locks on the windows and doors, I wandered down the hall. She’d done as I asked, the bedroom door partially cracked. A slight glow indicated she’d left a light on. I pushed open the door and slipped inside.
She’d wasted no time getting into bed. The light came from the adjoining bathroom. She was turned on her side, the covers all the way up to her shoulders. While there was a perfect rhythm to her breathing, my instinct told me she was still awake. Just standing by the side of the bed was troublesome. I curled my fingers instead of ripping down the covers and crawling in bedside her.
The desires were so damn odd.
Where she was forced to live was old, every building needing extensive repair. I could only imagine what most looked like inside. Even with the obvious money challenges, she’d done everything in her power to make every room homey. Paint in different hues had successfully covered up cracks in the wall. The ugly yellowing switch plates had been replaced with soft white ones. While she used bolder colors in the living room and kitchen, including an accent wall, her bedroom was soft and feminine: light purple walls with a deeper colored comforter. Everything was neat and tidy, not a single thing out of place.
I backed away, not bothering to check for weapons. She wasn’t that kind of girl, although when I left permanently, I’d make certain she had a way of protecting herself. There were far too many evil assholes in the world intent on harm.
A smile curled across my lips as I returned to the hallway. There was a second bathroom and another room, the door closed. At least I’d do my job and ensure I shouldn’t expect a roommate to break up our lovely party any time soon.
Additional complications I didn’t need.
But that’s what I found when I opened the door, flicking on the light switch on the wall.
A knot formed in my stomach as I stepped in further, fighting to process what I was seeing.
This was a little boy’s room.
Racecar bed.
Blue paint on the walls splashed with colorful art murals. A Spiderman comforter.
A bookshelf only half filled with children’s books.
A kaleidoscope on the ceiling.
Stuffed toys and trucks neatly placed against one wall.
The room was filled with love.
Sighing, I moved to the boy’s bed, sitting down and exhaling.
Yes, this complicated things significantly.
I was many things, most of them monstrous. What I’d refused to become was the kind of man who’d ever consider hurting a woman or child. There were enough violent pricks with God complexes destroying families. I knew that all too well.
Her boy wasn’t with her.
She’d sacrificed for him, yet he wasn’t with her. The sadness in her eyes. The hatred lingering just below the surface.
Something possessed me, something dark and evil.
While I’d tasked her to do something vitally important for me, I’d return the favor.
Before I left, never to see her again, I’d ensure her child was returned to her arms.
Forever.
CHAPTER 6
Christine
Dreams were annoying as hell.
Especially when they contained sexy rogues who were impossible to catch.
I opened my eyes, still in the throes of shadowed seduction. I could almost feel my dream date’s hands caressing my skin, whispering soft words.
Soft words in…
Spanish.
“Fuck.” I hissed and jerked up in bed, shaken to the core. I wasn’t only dreaming about a dark and dangerous stranger awakening the bad girl inside of me. I’d had my own. I glanced at the door. It was still partially cracked.
Just like he’d ordered me to do.
Kruz.
The sexy Spaniard who’d left my poor life in shambles. My God. I’d slept with the man. Okay, not technically. No, I’d fucked him instead. What in the hell had I been thinking? I curled over, holding my stomach. I could still feel him inside. The moment I shifted against the scratchy, cheap sheets, I could also feel the sting of his hand against my backside.
I should feel violated, enraged, and terrified.
Then why was the memory fueling the most delicious images in my mind?
He’d dared spank me.
I’d been horrified at first.
Enraged.
I’d wanted to lash out at him, issuing a slight scream from the pain lashing through me. But as my body seemed to enjoy doing, she’d betrayed me with a strangled moan.
A goddamn moan.
What the fuck had been wrong with me? The initial shock had defied me with turning into delirious desire.
Kruz had sensed what I’d needed. He’d taken advantage of my nervousness and horror of being kept hostage.
And the connection between us that defied logic.
No, I couldn’t allow myself to think that way. I’d been raised better. I had scruples, morals. I considered myself a decent human being.
If he hadn’t left, I was going to force him to go. And I refused to be coerced into offering him any assistance. If he wanted to ruin Tonya’s life, he could take her hostage.
Not this girl.
Fueled by another wave of anger, I tossed back the covers, half expecting to find he’d ripped off my clothes in the middle of the night.
He hadn’t.
Maybe there was some small snippet of decency in him. If he was still in my living room, there’d be no chance of escaping. He had my phone too so I couldn’t call anyone. And jumping out the bedroom window would only resort in at least one broken bone. That was something I definitely didn’t need.
A weapon.
What in the hell could I use as a weapon? I snatched my robe, hurriedly pulling it on and tying the sash as I thought about what I could use. There was nothing substantial in my bedroom. I’d purposely kept sharp objects where small hands couldn’t get to them. Now I was rethinking my decision and chastising myself for being so damn stupid.
Who lived in a shitty area of Miami without keeping protection right by their side?
Ugh.
Wait a minute.
The paperweight. The ugly crystal blob my mother had purchased for me when I’d graduated from college. She’d thought I could keep it on my desk at school. A gift she’d been forced to find a way to send behind my father’s back. While she’d meant well, she had no clue that heavy objects could also be used as weapons. The thought brought a smile. I just needed a few seconds and I could break free. Where I’d go from there had yet to be determined, but first things first.
A quick change into something I could wear in public and I’d make my escape.
The sound from just outside the room forced me to change my mind quickly. I rushed to the other side of the bed, fumbling to get the drawer open. What in God’s name had I shoved inside preventing me from opening it all the way? I tugged and pulled just as I heard a light knock on the door.
Fuck my life.
“Yes?” Ugh. My voice sounded squeaky.
“Can I come in?”
He was still here. The savage monster. Damn him for sounding even more incredible in the wee hours of the morning. Velvety smooth. Practiced.
Menacing.
I managed to jerk open the drawer, keeping a close eye on the door. “Sure.” I wrapped my hand around the oblong paperweight, throwing my arm behind my back. I didn’t really want to hurt the man, merely praying to buy a little time.
But I was also no fool. No matter what happened, this wouldn’t end well.
With quick steps, I moved toward the door just as he opened it. Before I lost my nerve, I smashed the paperweight against his forehead. Jumping back, I was thrown into shock when he grabbed my wrist with one broad hand, seizing my throat with the thick fingers of his other.
His reflexes were quick and he drove me against the wall, the ugly flowered weight pitched from my hand. The snarl on his face wasn’t the expression I remembered in my dream.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Christine. That wasn’t very nice of you.” His eyes flashed, boring into mine with acute intensity. He was unraveling parts of my soul. With his hold firm and his fingers digging into my skin, my instinct told me he could easily snap my neck.
When he slowly tipped his head over his shoulder, he chuckled.
What the hell was he laughing at? Okay, so the paperweight was as unsightly as I’d seen, but that gave him no right to make fun of it.
Except what I’d grabbed hadn’t been the Tiffany and Co piece of glass that had set my mother back eight hundred dollars, but the big, purple battery-operated vibrator Chloe had given me as a gag gift for my birthday.
Mortified, I almost begged him to put me out of my misery. The embarrassment I’d felt the night before was nothing in comparison to the horrible thoughts running through my mind right now.
He immediately released his hold, but I didn’t bother moving. I wasn’t certain I could do so anyway. Just watching him as he reached down, collecting the sex toy had a strange effect on me. Yet not nearly as much as the refreshed whiff of his scent.
So masculine yet lingering with a reminder of our intimate episode.
Kruz didn’t make light or chastise me. There was no smirk or evil laugh. Even the anger had faded from his eyes, yet I felt a sense of something odd I couldn’t put my finger on. Was it compassion? Was he feeling sorry for me?
“I’m not that desperate, Kruz. Many women who have completely satisfying sex lives enjoy using toys from time to time. It’s provocative, sexy. Maybe you wouldn’t understand that. I’m certain everything you do has a touch of brutality to it.”
I’d expected my outburst to be met with something entirely different than for him to hold out the toy. His silence was worse than if he was shaming me for owning something so sinful.
I snatched it from his hand, accidentally turning on the power switch. Could my life become any more of an embarrassment? As I tried to flick it off, I kept my eyes on his. There was no telling what new plans he’d cooked up in the middle of the night.
Just like everything else that had occurred since he’d crashed into my life, I wasn’t able to deftly find the switch. Kruz had to do it for me, taking his time to rub his thumb across my palm before guiding my finger to the thin knob. I tossed it onto the bed, trying to sidestep him, but he placed his hand on the wall next to me.
We both looked down at the same time. In my slight struggle, the silky sash had come free, the strap on the cotton tee shirt I always wore to bed exposing one breast. My nipple was hard. Another moment of true mortification. I quickly covered myself, but not before his nostrils flared.
If he truly believed I’d make the same mistake as to allow him to touch me again, he was sorely wrong.
We both breathed heavily. What was I supposed to say to him? That I was sorry? I wasn’t.
“I need you to do something for me,” he said, his voice gravelly, but not from sleep. Something told me he hadn’t slept a wink.
“What?” I wasn’t in the position to argue with him. We both knew it.
“Come with me.”
“Where? I’m not dressed.”
He backed away, cocking his head. I was struck by how handsome he was with his tousled hair and the easy three-day stubble covering his chiseled jaw. He’d obviously made himself at home in my guest bathroom using my toothpaste. His breath was minty where mine likely smelled like dragon’s breath.
The man of few words had returned and he moved stiffly toward the door, turning to ensure I was following him. His mood was entirely different. Maybe he’d gotten a terrible phone call from one of his associates.
My feet were heavy, but I made my way into the hallway. Instead of guiding me into the living room or kitchen, the man did the truly unthinkable thing in my mind.
He walked into my son’s room.
Almost instantly, my eyes welled with tears. I’d pretended that I was so damn brave. I’d tried to convince him and myself that nothing could bother me. I’d even acted nonchalant while staring down the barrel of a gun.
Maybe I hadn’t been afraid.
Because I’d already faced the greatest fear of my life.
Losing my son.
“Talk to me,” Kruz said after a few seconds of enduring my silence.
“How dare you,” I said quietly, blinking to try to keep the tears from falling. He didn’t deserve a second’s worth of explanation or satisfaction.
Not one.
Sniffing, I was already shaking, the treacherous memories of the last few months tearing through me like the most powerful tidal wave.
“Who is he?” Kruz asked, keeping his voice low.
Did he actually believe that was going to make things better? “None of your goddamn business. Get out of this room. You weren’t allowed in here.”
“Who is he?”
His repetitive question was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I spun around to face him, immediately pounding my fists against his chest.
“Leave me alone! Get out of here. Get out of my apartment. This is my home. Mine. Not yours. You can’t take what little I have, Kruz, because that’s already been done. It’s already… Been done.”
He hadn’t grabbed my arms or tried to stop me.
When I stopped, I was gasping for air while he remained completely calm. Yet those eyes of his were darker than before, a fire burning in his irises that confused me. It was as if he cared. Ridiculous.
I pulled away, refusing to face him and dropped my head into my hands. I’d tried so hard to be strong, but one snap and I’d lost everything emotionally and mentally that I’d gained.
“Who is he?” Kruz repeated and this time, I laughed bitterly.
“He’s my son. Maverick. He’s three and a half and such a little man. God. I swear he’s growing up so fast. Before I blink, he’ll be an adult.” The laughter continued, but the angst was evident.
“Why is he not here?”
“God. You’re so fucking nosy. Why do you care?”
His silence was even worse than all the rough and tough attitude he’d doled out before.
I moved toward Maverick’s bed, adjusting the two decorative pillows like I’d done countless times before. “His father has him.”
