Page 94 of Pretty Hostage


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I slowly lowered the wicked tip of the blade to his solar plexus, allowing him to continue to push against me frantically. He jerked beneath me when the knife sank into his flesh, but I’d silenced him effectively, and the sound of his agony wouldn’t haunt Sofia after we left this place.

Once the hilt of the blade kissed his torn flesh, I jerked the knife in a downward arc, shifting off him to allow his guts to spill onto the floor and not on me.

I didn’t bother to wait to watch the light leave his eyes. He hadn’t suffered nearly enough, but he was no longer a threat to Sofia.

I dropped the knife, pushed to my feet, and went to her. She lay curled up on her side, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands clapped tightly over her ears.

I reached for her, but I stopped short when I noted the crimson liquid glistening on my fists.

Fuck.

Moving quickly, I wiped my hands on the white sheets. The fresh blood smeared onto the expensive cotton, but the gore that had caked on earlier during my rampage through her father’s house clung stubbornly to my skin.

I frowned down at my blood-soaked clothes. I didn’t want her to see me like this.

The first gunshots rang out, automatic weapons peppering the night with sharp reports. Sofia cringed, her delicate body shaking violently.

I didn’t want her to see any of this.

Coming to a decision, I ripped at the white sheet, tearing off a strip of soft cotton. I pressed it against her eyes, and she jolted. I didn’t flinch from my plan, wrapping the makeshift blindfold firmly around her head and urging her to drop her hands from her ears so I could tie it in place.

“Good girl,” I approved when she didn’t fight me. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

I pressed a kiss against her tear-stained cheek, leaving a streak of blood behind. Irritated by the sight, I gently wiped it away, resolving to wash every inch of her as soon as I got her home.

I bundled her up in the rest of the ruined sheet, hiding her body that Ronaldo had so cruelly exposed.

Despite the horrors she’d faced tonight, Sofia tucked herself close to me. Her dainty fingers clutched at my bloody t-shirt, and I was relieved that I’d blindfolded her. I doubted she’d be clinging on so tight if she could see what she was holding onto.

As violence erupted around the perimeter, I rushed Sofia out of the mansion. This entire estate would be ashes by morning, but I intended to have her back home and in our bed before then.Chapter 25MateoSofia had fallen asleep in my arms an hour ago, but I hadn’t removed the blindfold. I didn’t want to risk her waking up and seeing the blood that painted my body.

Some of it was smeared on her luminous skin, and the white sheet I’d wrapped her in had soaked up the crimson stains on my shirt where I’d held her against my chest.

I frowned at the sight. I didn’t like it one bit, and I definitely didn’t want to trouble her with the memory of it forever.

The SUV that Adrián had ordered to pick us up at the airport slowed to a stop in front of my house. Before I could shift Sofia to maneuver her out of the car, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I fished it out to find a text from Adrián.

Caesar will survive. I’ve decided to let him live in the humiliation of exile. You’re welcome.

I closed my eyes against a surge of emotion. A swell of rage told me I wanted Caesar dead even more fiercely than Adrián did.

But relief was stronger. Sofia would find it difficult if her father had been killed tonight. Even if the piece of shit was responsible for her trauma, she would struggle with his death.

She had complicated feelings surrounding her father, and she deserved as much time as she needed to sort through them all. If he died now, she might grieve him forever and never find any peace.

Thank you. I owe you one, boss. I texted my reply.

You owe me several. Remind me not to pay you for a few years.

I smiled and slipped my phone back into my pocket. Adrián didn’t mean that. The vicious drug lord was a cold-hearted bastard, but he’d proven the depth of his loyalty to me tonight.

Retaliation against Caesar and Ronaldo had been inevitable, once Caesar had chosen to take Sofia and openly move against Adrián.

But my friend could have arranged a dozen different countermoves that didn’t involve him personally aiding in an assault on enemy territory.

His decision to spare Caesar so that I could more easily comfort Sofia was such a kind gesture that it almost humanized my sadistic boss.

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