Page 26 of Pretty Hostage


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I jerked my hand through my hair. I couldn’t do something that might start a war. Not without talking to Adrián first. I wouldn’t make a rash decision that would drag him into bloodshed and mortal danger.

“Get up,” I snarled at the two assailants who were still breathing.

Barely.

“Take your dead friend and get the fuck off my property.”

They struggled to their feet, and the man with the broken jaw swayed before dropping back to his knees.

“You can walk out of here, or I can throw your corpse over the wall,” I threatened.

The prospect of a gory death provided the man with enough adrenaline to get moving. I followed them the short distance through the tree line to the defensive wall, watching to ensure that they actually left. They struggled to scale it with the ropes they’d used when they’d broken in. But my silent menace gave them the strength they needed to coordinate climbing over and dragging the dead man with them. They didn’t even hiss in pain when the barbed wire they’d cut to access my property sliced at their skin. Fear was a powerful drug.

Once I was sure that they were in full retreat, I walked back through the trees and retrieved my phone from where I’d dropped it on my lawn. My fingers shook slightly from residual rage, but I managed to put in the call to Adrián.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, knowing I wouldn’t call at this hour unless there was a problem.

“Caesar sent men to break into my house.” My words were so roughened with unspent fury that they were barely intelligible.

Adrián seemed to understand. “They came for Sofia?”

I recognized his deadly calm tone all too well. My sadistic boss was prepared to mete out some punishment of his own for this threat to his control of the territory. Caesar had always been a reluctant associate. He’d been in charge of the Rodríguez cartel’s west coast operation before Adrián’s father had exiled him from Colombia and posted him here in California. Adrián had ruthlessly wrested power away from Caesar years ago, subjugating him.

“They said they came to deliver a message,” I said, managing to regulate my voice to something slightly more civilized. “Caesar thinks the arranged marriage between Sofia and Pedro Ronaldo still stands. He wanted to make sure I don’t…” I gnashed my teeth, too enraged by Caesar’s demands to say them out loud.

“I see,” Adrián replied coolly. He was already aware of Sofia’s engagement to Ronaldo, and he understood what a promise like that entailed in our world.

Ronaldo would be expecting a virginal bride.

“I won’t give her to him, Adrián,” I vowed. “I can’t give her to him.”

“I know,” my friend said heavily.

If I were simply another lackey in his employ, Adrián wouldn’t permit any rebellious shit from me. He would expect me to fall in line and do what was best for our organization, or I could take a bullet to the brain instead.

But we were as close as brothers, even if he was my boss. I worked for him because I was happy to get paid obscene amounts of money to watch his back. Protecting him didn’t feel like a job.

“I’m going to call Caesar and smooth things over,” Adrián promised. “But under no circumstances are you to fuck Sofia. I’m going to have to give him my word that she will remain a virgin for as long as you have her as your hostage.”

“You’re going to let Caesar keep his deal with Ronaldo?” I demanded, incredulous.

Before I could snap at my friend that I wouldn’t comply with his order, he continued on. “Yes, I’m going to let Caesar keep his deal with Ronaldo. For as long as Ronaldo is alive, and he won’t be for much longer. I owe Stefano Duarte a favor, anyway. I’m sure he’ll be eager to help me take out his main rival for trafficking our product through Mexico.”

“You’ll support Duarte over Ronaldo?” I knew all too well that Adrián owed Stefano Duarte a huge favor—the brutal drug lord who liked to style himself as a gentleman criminal had helped us rescue Valentina from her abusive husband and smuggle her safely back to California.

Duarte and Ronaldo both profited off their friendship with the Rodríguez cartel as they trafficked our Colombian cocaine through Mexico and into the States. But Duarte had decided to bet on Adrián, while Ronaldo had cozied up to Caesar.

The uneasy peace we’d brokered since Adrián had stolen Valentina for himself was about as stable as a house of cards. And mishandling the situation with Sofia could bring the whole thing crashing down.

“I can’t openly support Stefano Duarte,” Adrián said. “Things are tense enough without me assisting him with a full-on assault on Ronaldo. But I can start working with Duarte to support his efforts to choke off Ronaldo’s business and bleed him dry. Someone will kill him soon enough if he’s not bringing in money. A wedding date hasn’t been set yet, and Sofia has another year before she finishes college. Ronaldo won’t be a problem by then.

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