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Is that who her cousin is—the daughter of the man who I was supposed to be working for?
“Hm?” he asks when I don’t say a word.
How can I? I’m speechless, and this quick job just got ten times more complicated.
Taking my silence as an answer, he says, “That’s okay. You’ll have another chance to give me what I want.” His eyes narrow as his grip begins to tighten, and my heart races faster, harder than ever.
Although, right now, I’m not sure why—is it the fear, or is it the way my pussy is starting to moisten? I’m so ashamed. At least there’s no way either of the men could know.
Though they would if they put their hands on me down there. If this dark monster took his hand from my throat and slipped it inside my panties, he’d be able to tell right away how I really feel about this little game he’s playing. All the thought does is make me wetter.
I tense up all over when he squeezes harder than before, my head is pounding, and I hear my heartbeat in my ears, each beat slower than the last. He has my life in his hands, and he knows it.
And he likes it.
What’s worse, so do I.
He leans in close, examining me like he’d be able to see if I’m lying. All I can do is fight to hold on for as long as I can until everything goes gray and a rattling noise comes out of my mouth without me trying.
He throws me aside, leaving me slumped over, gagging, coughing, and rubbing my throat. A swipe at my wet cheeks leaves my hand streaked with eye makeup. I must look like a total disaster.
But when I sneak a glance toward the man who almost killed me, he’s smiling in a way that tells me he likes what he sees. And all I know is that if I want to stay alive, my only option might be to remain Elena.
6
ENZO
“Are you hungry?” I munch on a piece of toast, gazing across the breakfast table toward the woman who has sat in a chair all night, her arms bound behind her back. Her head sags with exhaustion, and I’m sure by now she must be sore, especially after being stuck in the same position for hours.
Damned if she’s not holding on tight to the same story she told last night. This whole innocent act is already wearing thin. It seems she expects me to—or wants me to rather—overlook the drugs I found in her bag bearing the Marielito stamp. Why in the hell would she have them without knowing what they are?
More than anything, I need to know. I’ve never been so much as a recreational user of cocaine, but I’ve tested it more than once while quality-checking our product shipments. What I placed on my tongue last night was like nothing I’ve experienced before. Somehow, the man has gotten his hands on a unique and potentially powerful product. And we need to know how. I’m here to broker a deal, one that will be royally fucked if he has indeed found a new supplier.
But he left it in her hands, this supposedly innocent, clueless girl? I’m insulted that she would imagine her pitiful excuses believable. No way would he allow her to transport something this special if he didn’t know she could be trusted.
Yet to hear her tell it, she’s nothing but an innocent bystander. Is that what Alvarez thinks of me? That I’m some rube, who would be easily tricked into believing such an obvious lie? She’s lucky I don’t take my bitterness out on her here and now, making everything that happened last night seem like child’s play in comparison.
I take another bite of toast, noting the way her eyes follow my movements. She’s hungry. “You’re more than welcome to share some of this with me.”
She liftsher chin but remains silent, the stubborn thing. I almost admire her for it.
“Suit yourself,” I murmur and take another bite.
It isn’t long before my phone rings. I’ve been expecting this call. He’s not going to be happy—and I’ll be damned if I mention the drugs in her presence. I tucked them away in my room last night for safekeeping. She doesn’t need to hear my theories about them.
“It took longer than I expected to hear from you,” I murmur in greeting.
As always, Grandfather wastes no time with niceties. “Is it done?”
This is going to be tricky. Keeping her from him. He wouldn’t like this, finding out I’ve gone behind his back and made such a move. He also wouldn’t understand. I’m not certain I do, come to think of it. All I know is, there was no way I could let her go.
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
There’s no ignoring the sharpness in his voice. No matter what the years have done to him, how they’ve grayed his hair or wrinkled his skin, his voice still reminds me of the cracking of a whip at times like this.
“It means Prince and I waited at the warehouse for more than an hour, to no avail. He never showed.”
