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Desperation wraps its evil fingers around my throat, eliciting a moan from me. Heath’s eyes shoot up, but I quickly hide behind the door, my heart hammering and my thoughts racing.
But he doesn’t let it distract him. A moment later, when I return to my hidden spot, I watch Heath jerk his enormous cock while he smooths down something on his desk. A piece of paper, or maybe a photograph. My heart pounds. What is he looking at? I’m so desperate for it to be me, my pussy drips between my legs.
Absent-mindedly, I realize I didn’t wear panties underneath my robe and nightie, and I’m now dripping on the floor. Fuck. Why and how does this man do to me? Everything in me is screaming for me to hate him, and yet I can’t bring myself not to get turned on in his presence.
My hand is so desperate to travel between my thighs it trembles, clinging to the door. I peek at him again just in time to see him jerk his cock over his desk. Animalistic groans escape Heath’s mouth as he finishes, his cock so huge it doesn’t even look human anymore.
I sink into the shadows as I watch him emerge. He stops still in the hallway and I brace myself for being discovered as he smells the air. It’s as if he can sense I’m here.
But Heath shakes his head to ignore my presence and takes off down the hallway.
The moment he’s gone, I slip into his office. I know I should go back to bed, but I need to see this...
My fingers shake as I touch the warm wood of his desk where Heath’s hand was resting only moments ago. And there, on the desk, is a photo of me on my eighteenth birthday, one Nana took with her old-fashioned camera.
I do not know how it survived the fire or how Heath got it, but it’s there. On the paper, I stare at the camera with innocent eyes and a timid smile. My lips tremble at the image of innocence. Life isn’t that simple anymore.
Dipping my fingertips into the droplets of white cream on the paper, I lift my hand and lick the remains of Heath’s load off them.
He came for me, after all.
It’s only fair I clean up after him.
Chapter 8
HEATH
“We need to go. Now.”
I groan, getting up from the warm comfort of my bed. Rain is luckily in her room, so Liberato’s whining has only disturbed my slumber.
“Can you hurry? We need to strike now.”
“Relax,” I hiss. “Everything will be fine.”
I get dressed as quickly as I can, picking a crisp shirt and a suit from my wardrobe. Italian leather shoes follow, and I complete the look with gold cufflinks. Following Liberato down the hallway, I pause before Rain’s door, hesitating and making my friend groan.
“There’s no time for that now,” Liberato reminds me. “We have to go, we’re already late.”
I nod with a resolute smile and walk past the door with my heart pounding. I can only hope nothing bad happens today, or Rain will...
What the fuck does it matter? I’m not getting attached to the little traitor that married my uncle instead of me.
But as I walk toward the Cadillac parked in front of our Palacio, I’m still stressing about Rain’s safety. If something were to happen to me, Rain would be on her own again.
I only realize I’ve said the words out loud when Liberato replies, “Then you’ll have to make damn sure you don’t die tonight.”
“Planning on it.”
I smirk, tossing back a bag of white, finely milled powder. I can feel my friend’s judging gaze on me, but he says nothing. He knows better than that by now. The drugs have proved valuable during moments like this one. My increased physical strength can only help us. If I hold myself back and not murder everybody in there.
The car pulls into the docks after a half-hour ride we spent in silence. Liberato and I share a knowing look. This is our redemption, after all.
We’ve been planning an attack on this place since before we got free, but now the moment has finally arrived, and I’m not sure either of us is ready. Liberato looks pale as fuck and my knuckles have turned white from how hard I’m clenching my fists. Some of the worst moments of my life happened because of the men who work in these warehouses. Tonight, they’ll pay for it. But we’re killing two birds with one stone because they’re Dragon cartel men - the ones who wouldn’t meet with us.
Of course, they won’t know we were the ones who killed their own.
We leave no witnesses behind.
Liberato barks orders at our men while I pour another baggy of powder on my tongue, relishing the bitter taste. Luckily, my friend doesn’t notice what I’m doing, because I’m not down for another lecture from the high and mighty Liberato. I toss the bag aside and wait for the signal, clutching the gun in my hands.
