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I wasn’t the most subtle man compared to my wickedly smart friends, but I could be persuasive. Charming. Ruthless.
No matter how much she might protest at first, Evelyn would be mine.
Chapter 14
Evelyn
Hot water rained down on my bare skin, washing the dried blood from my side.
Massimo’s blood. He’d risked his life to save mine.
I pumped out an excessive amount of body wash from the fixture on the wall and worked it into a lather. The soap slicked over my ribs and the curve of my waist, white bubbles turning to pink foam.
My stomach lurched, and I braced my hands against the tiled wall to steady myself. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes to focus on quelling my nausea.
I still felt weak and wrung-out from my panic attack, and I didn’t have the energy for another one. Exhaustion dragged at my limbs, but my fear-soaked senses were on high alert.
There was a criminal in the next room, separated from me only by a flimsy lock on the bathroom door. I wasn’t foolish enough to think that would keep him out. I’d seen his intimidating physique when he’d taken off his shirt for the doctor to clean his wound. Massimo could easily break down the door to get to me.
Despite the heat of the shower, a shiver raced over my skin.
I was trapped in a drug lord’s urban fortress, and I’d foolishly thought it was a safe house.
I will always protect you, Evelyn, Massimo had vowed. He’d proven himself three times already.
My gut twisted.
He’d proven it when he’d killed for me.
No matter what he said about keeping me safe, I knew the truth with crystal clarity: I was his captive.
On the night I’d been kidnapped by the cartel, they’d planned to use me as bait to get to George. Was that Massimo’s intention too? He’d said that he was hunting my fiancé as a favor to Stefano Duarte.
I want my money. His angry words rang through my mind. If I’d tried to save her, they would’ve killed me too.
He’d always said that his work with the DEA meant everything to him. His desire to be a federal agent had been one of the things I admired most about him. It’d been his career aspiration ever since I’d first met him in our freshman year of college. He was supposed to be one of the good guys.
Even if George was corrupt, Massimo had to know that targeting a DEA agent was dangerous. From a criminal’s perspective, there was nothing riskier than going after American law enforcement.
Maybe I could convince my captor that it wasn’t worth the risk to target George. Then, he wouldn’t need me as bait, either. He wouldn’t dare hold me hostage if it wasn’t advantageous for him. Not if that meant the DEA coming after him in full force.
I shivered again. Massimo had promised me that no one could get past Duarte’s defenses. George had warned me about the manpower and weapons commanded by the cartels, and I didn’t doubt that lives would be lost if agents tried to storm this building to get to me.
No one even knew I was here. How could the DEA find me when I’d so stupidly gotten on that motorcycle with Massimo, running straight into this trap?
I took another deep breath, struggling to slow my whirring thoughts. If I was going to escape without risking others’ lives, I would have to reason with Massimo.
Is she innocent? he’d asked in that basement. Right before he’d killed the men who’d kidnapped me.
No matter what kind of criminal he was, it seemed my dark savior had an undeniable code of honor. I could use that to my advantage. I might be able to talk my way out of this, and no one would have to get hurt.
Hardening my resolve, I opened my eyes and noted that all the blood had been washed from my skin. No signs of the violence that’d exploded in the alley marked my body.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d lingered in the shower, sorting through my tangled thoughts. Trepidation nipped at me. Was Massimo a patient man? If he decided I’d been in here too long, he might decide to break that lock and come in here while I was still naked.
My fingers shook slightly as I quickly turned off the shower and stepped out into the opulent ensuite. A plush bathmat cushioned my feet, the heat from the tiles beneath ensuring that a chill didn’t touch my toes. I grabbed a fluffy white towel and wrapped it around me, covering myself in case Massimo came bursting in.
Still, I felt far too exposed and vulnerable. I looked at the pile of discarded clothes that I’d stripped off before I’d gotten in the shower. Dirt from where I’d fallen on the pavement smudged my silky pink pajama shorts, and putting on the blood-stained camisole was out of the question.
