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A simmering rage builds within me that Maricela dared to think she could escape. That she's caused the upheaval everyone is feeling right now. No one defies the Maguire clan and gets away with it.
"We need to tighten security," Callum states through gritted teeth. His eyes dart from person to person, as if searching for the source of the problem. But we all know who's to blame.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Callum roars. His voice echoes off the cold concrete walls, making Maricela flinch.
While I’m pretty certain Callum’s words are aimed at me, Maricela responds as if they were for her, and I don’t correct the assumption. But she's not going down without a fight. Her eyes narrow, the fear in them transforming into a fiery determination. "You really expected me not to try and escape? I’ve had enough of being held against my will, enough of being treated like some pawn in your twisted games."
Tears well in her eyes, but they're tears of anger and frustration. Her fear might be palpable, but so is her determination.
She shakes her head desperately. "I never wanted any of this! I never asked for any of it!"
As I watch her, I can't help but admire her resilience, even in the face of imminent danger. Maricela may be a captive, but she refuses to be broken.
But respect won't protect her from the repercussions of her exploits.
"And yet, here you are," I retort coldly. "Bound by your choices and the consequences that come with them."
“Fuck you!” Maricela yells, and if she wasn’t contained, I’m certain she would have lashed out physically as well. “Where the hell do you people get off thinking you can interfere with other people’s lives like this? Don’t tell me you’d behave any differently under the same circumstances.”
Jesus! Is she trying to guilt me, or what?
"Enough," I growl, my voice low and dangerous. I sound menacing even to my own ears. “You think this is some kind of game? Well, let me assure you, darlin’, it isn't. And right now, you've tested my patience for far too much. We’ve gone easy on you so far.”
I watch her closely, observing the flicker of desperation in her eyes. She's terrified, and rightfully so.
"Sit," I command, my voice firm and unwavering as I gesture to the small metal chair in the center of the room. Maricela hesitates for a moment, her eyes flickering with a mix of defiance and fear. But ultimately, she complies, sinking onto the cold seat.
Callum snaps his fingers at one of the guards, calling him to attention. “Strip her,” he commands, and Maricela sucks in an audible breath.
The soldier hurries to comply, and Maricela flinches as he flicks open a deadly sharp switchblade right in front of her and starts hacking at the material that covers her.
Fuck! My instinct is to object but there’s no way I can protest without calling unwanted attention to both of us.
And as Maricela sits there, shackled and vulnerable, it’s obvious the reality of her situation is beginning to sink in. “Wait! No!”
“Did you think there wouldn’t be consequences?” I ask her, forcing ice into my voice. As angry as I am, I don’t like any of this, but I’ll do what I have to do. At this point, any show of favoritism won’t work in her favor, and I really don’t need any further scrutiny, either from Callum or my men.
She’s a captive, a prisoner. I tell myself that over and over while my mind fights against that simple truth, the way everything inside me wants to fight my twin against what he’s doing to my woman.
No! Not my woman. I force myself to remember she was running from me, so right now, what I have to do is regain my credibility and the respect of my organization, and as fortune would have it, I have the perfect opportunity.
“Do you remember what I said to you, Maricela, when we talked about you attempting to get out of here?” I ask silkily, as another layer of fabric is ripped away from her trembling body, and I force myself to remain impassive, even as fury beats angry fists against my chest at my men leering at her dressed only in the teeny tiny camisole and panties that were hidden beneath the other layers of clothing.
It’s the last barrier to nudity, and it’s about to go, but despite everything, I can’t allow that to happen. That small covering of her modesty is saved by my intervention, and the soldier with the knife steps back as I confront her.
Maricela looks confused for a moment, and then her face crumples with realization. “Say it,” I demand, getting right in her face, leaning my hands on the arms of the seat she’s sitting in, more to force the others away than to intimidate her. “Say it out loud so everyone can hear.”
If my brother realizes I’ve done it on purpose, to save her from being naked, he doesn’t call me on it. Which is good, because enough is enough, and although this is not enough, it’s all I can do to protect her without bringing so much attention it causes a revolt.
If that happens, the result won’t be pretty, and any tiny measure of protection I can afford her will be gone. I may be the head of the organization, but that doesn’t mean I’m above reproach.
If I were anyone else, I know Callum would have already deposed me. It’s only our unique bond that’s providing a buffer right now.
Maricela looks at me with betrayal in her eyes, not realizing I’m actually trying my best to save her from further humiliation. I hate seeing it, but I’ll live with it if it keeps her safe. If anyone here starts to think my loyalties are torn between Maricela and the mob, then things will go right to shit for both of us. “Y-you said you’d pretend to let me get away. Allow me to believe I could escape…”
“Carry on,” I prompt, my words like bullets in the cold, sterile room.
Maricela swallows and closes her eyes, but the expression in them seconds before she does so, guts me. “You said I could run like hell, but it didn’t matter because you’d catch me.”
