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He took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. "I want to dance the night away with you, but I know that you need to work."
"I can switch shifts," she murmured hesitantly.
"Then I'll be honored if you’d agree to be my date at the wedding tonight."
Marina's eyes widened as if she hadn't expected that. "I was just joking. I have nothing nice to wear to a wedding."
He had lived for long enough to know how to respond to that, but this time, he wouldn't be lying. "Anything you wear will look beautiful because it's you. You could make a burlap sack look chic."
Marina laughed. "You are such a charmer, Peter, but I like it. And I can probably do better than a burlap sack. I'll put something together."
"I have no doubt."
57
MARGO
"This is not so bad." Jasmine lifted her martini glass to her lips. "I don't mind lounging on the deck of a luxurious yacht and being served drinks and food."
Drinking while drugged was probably a bad idea, but they needed to pretend to still be under the influence, and the drugs were wearing off.
They had been served a delicious lunch cooked by the yacht's chef and delivered by one of the guards. Everyone was cordial to them, but Margo had caught the sneers.
The only reason no one was molesting them was that they now belonged to the cartel bosses, and the men were afraid to touch them.
Margo leaned back in the ridiculously comfortable armchair and closed her eyes. "It's so peaceful out here. I wish this voyage would never end, and we would never reach our destination, wherever it is."
"Puerto Vallarta," Alberto said. "That's odd." He looked up. "He wasn't supposed to come back. We were supposed to come to him." He cussed in Spanish under his breath. "He will be mad that you were just drugged." A new litany of curses spilled from his lips.
"Who is coming?" Jasmine asked.
"Señor Modana," one of the guards said. "Maybe he's impatient and wants to play with his new toy now."
Jasmine shuddered.
Margo followed Alberto's gaze and looked up at the sky. In the distance, a shape was steadily growing, but she was too loopy to focus her eyes. It wasn't until it was only a few hundred feet away that she realized it was a helicopter.
"Darth Vader arrives," Margo murmured. "Dah, dah, dum," she hummed an ominous sound.
"Come on," Alberto said. "He will be pleased if you are there to welcome him when he arrives."
He probably meant Jasmine, but Margo rose to her feet out of solidarity and walked toward the helipad with her friend.
Alberto stopped them from climbing the stairs to the level above. "That's close enough."
The landing pad was only a few feet higher than where they stood, so they could watch the arrival of the cartel boss. Not that she or Jasmine were looking forward to it, but Margo had never seen a helicopter up close, and she was curious.
The craft cut through the sky, its rotors churning the air and sending a powerful gust across the deck, causing Margo's hair to whip around her face.
It looked like a high-end model, its glossy black exterior gleaming in the waning sunlight. There was some insignia on the side, but she didn't know what it meant.
The pilot skillfully maneuvered the helicopter towards the helipad, making the descent smooth, and then it hovered for a moment above the helipad before gently touching down. The rotors slowed, their deafening whirr diminishing to a low hum, and then, finally, there was silence.
Margo held her breath as the door to the helicopter opened. She knew that whoever was about to step out would hold the key to her and Jasmine's fate.
The setting sun cast long shadows across the deck, adding a dramatic flare to the unscheduled arrival, and as one of the men rushed to open the door, Margo held her breath, praying it was Julio and not Carlos.
So yeah, it was selfish of her, but Alberto had said that Julio treated his women well, and Carlos didn't, so there was that.
