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Fuck. This was bad.
I glanced down and saw a gun tucked in Scar’s belt. A cursory look back at the others confirmed they had their own too. These didn’t seem like a trio of nice guys. They were dressed in jeans and t-shirts: one gray, another red, and the last one black. They seemed strong and I knew I wouldn’t have much of a chance if I tried to fight them. If anything, I’d just end up dead.
Wherever we were, I was deep in cartel territory.
“Nemesio?” I asked.
“Yeah. He’s inside, sugar tits. Welcome home,” Lefty replied, and Scar’s scowl only deepened.
“You know, she’s prettier than I expected for a scientist type,” Righty observed, and I wanted to punch him straight between the eyes. I thought better of it though and simply glared at him instead.
“What does Nemesio want from me?” I pressed and my three gigantic escorts sealed their lips. They didn’t say a single word and just dragged me forward down a path until a big Spanish-style villa came into view. We’d entered the property through some nondescript side entrance, rather than through the driveway for some unknown reason.
I attempted to pull my arm from Scar’s grasp, but it only resulted in him gripping me even tighter.
The crisp white stucco was stark against the dark greenery of the surrounding jungle. The rust red roof tiles were bright against the blue sky. The mansion had multiple levels and great curved arches that only added to the extravagant decadence. It was a massive home and the detailed landscaping around it was simplistic, but perfectly done.
Righty, Lefty, and Scar led me to a side entrance and forced me inside. I had to keep my eyes on my feet so I didn’t trip. I really didn’t want to fall on the tile beneath me. It would hurt a hell of a lot more than the dirt outside.
The inside walls were covered in white plaster and lined with a number of paintings of the Virgin Mary and other seemingly religious scenes. There were several landscape images of both the jungle and the beach. Along the hallway were a few lush potted plants. Some of them were quite striking.
They jerked me along to the center foyer of the house where they stopped and finally released me. I slipped my hands from the ropes behind my back, and they said nothing. There was nowhere for me to go anyway, not when the three of them were armed with guns. They’d probably start shooting me for sport if they could.
A man cleared his throat above me, and my gaze was pulled upward. Righty, Lefty, and Scar took a step back.
“Your bride, as you requested, boss. She is unharmed,” Scar blurted, and I scowled back at him.
“Ahh. Miss Zoe Parker in the flesh,” Nemesio growled, and I turned my glower back toward him.
“Dr. Zoe Asher,” I corrected firmly and Nemesio’s grin widened precipitously. My lungs tightened with fear, and I found it difficult to pull in a full breath.
“You might assume that, yes, Zoe. But not anymore,” he replied.
“What did you do?” I spat and he shook his head, just staring at me. His eyes were such a dark brown that they bordered on black. His skin was a darkened tan. He’d clearly spent more of his fair share in the sun. His beard was thick but groomed to edge into thick sideburns. He was a bigger guy, but unlike Grayson who was big and hard, this man was pudgy. He was probably two hundred and fifty pounds, but he didn’t look like he worked out a day in his life.
Around his waist was a belt complete with a gun holster and a rather grisly-looking knife. I glared at him, and he simply grinned at my ire.
The danger that radiated from him was far more vicious and unyielding than anyone I’d ever seen before, even Grayson. Even when he’d torn my clothes off and pinned me over his desk, I’d never felt like he would really hurt me. Sure, he’d spanked my bottom bright red on multiple occasions, but he never gave off the impression that he’d shoot me between the eyes if I ever said the wrong thing. Nemesio looked like a man who wasn’t afraid to slap a woman around or murder her husband to get what he wanted.
I had the distinct feeling that Nemesio was exactly that kind of cold-blooded evil.
I needed to tread very carefully going forward.
“I took care of it,” he replied. Everything about him was evasive and dangerous. I forced myself to hold my tongue more than usual, knowing that anything I said could get me killed or worse, make whatever he did to Grays
on that much more terrible.
“Did you kill him?”
He didn’t answer and nothing about his expression gave me any sort of clue whatsoever. I decided that changing the subject would be the next best course no matter how much my anxious heart squeezed in fear over Grayson’s fate. I didn’t want to make anything worse than it already was.
“Why am I here?”
“Ismael promised me a bride in exchange for peace between my family and his. He didn’t tell me he’d also made a side deal with Grayson Asher, and he didn’t go as far as to even bring me in on it, so as far as I am concerned there’s still a wedding that needs to take place,” Nemesio explained.
“I’m already married,” I blurted, and his grin widened impossibly further.
“Sure. In the United States. Do you think I much care about that here in Mexico? In my home? You are mine by contract. I paid for you in blood, sweat, and a shitload of money so I’m taking what I’m owed,” he said, a vicious undercurrent to his words.
