“Stay put,” Cristian says after parking the car in the basement parking lot of his apartment building. His eyes soften when they land on his sleeping son. Elio is out cold, fast asleep with his head resting against my side. I have barely moved a muscle in the past hour, afraid I might wake him. “I’ll get him,” he adds before climbing out of the driver’s side.
Cristian is careful opening the back door and unbuckling his son’s seat belt before gently lifting him into his arms. Elio mumbles in his sleep as he snuggles against his father’s chest. Cristian jerks his head for me to follow, and I get out of the car, still clutching the eye mask in one hand, acknowledging the bodyguards as they open the trunk and retrieve our bags.
No one talks while we ride the private elevator to the penthouse. Removing my shoes inside the front door of my new home, I slip my feet into my slides and trail Cristian to Elio’s bedroom, quietly watching him undress his son and tuck him into bed. Elio’s eyes open for a few brief seconds, and he sleepily smiles at his father before succumbing to slumber again. Cristian stares at him for a few beats before tenderly kissing him on the brow.
Pressure settles on my chest as I watch the sweet moment between father and son, and I slip away to my room before my boss sees me. Leaning back against my door, I squeeze my eyes shut as my chest tightens in pain. After I slump to the floor, I raise my knees and cradle my head in my hands.
I can’t do this. I can’t take that man away from his son.
Tears prick my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I can’t keep breaking down like I have been. The journey back to the city was agony as I battled with myself. Cristian ran me a bath, and he gave me a box of melatonin to help me to sleep. He’d gone to the pharmacy after golf, especially to pick them up for me. Then Gia gave me an Italian cookbook that was her mother-in-law’s. She said Natalia wanted me to have it so I could learn a few staples. Elisa handed me some essential oils her Aunt Sierra had given her to help with my fake PMS.
These are good people. The best people. They barely know me, and yet they welcomed me with open arms, and they went out of their way to help me. How can I betray them? It would be the worst way to repay their kindness.
The photos of the files are sitting on my cell phone taunting me. I don’t even know if sending them to Pablo will do any good. He wants intel on drug shipping routes, not random single mothers Cristian is considering marrying. If I send these pictures, will I put those women at risk? And will it be for nothing if Pablo still punishes my mother? But if I don’t at least appear to look like I’m trying, he might kill my mother.
I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
I don’t know how long I sit on the floor contemplating it before I get up and go to my closet to grab my cartel cell. My heart is heavy as I turn it on, knowing what I must do. Fear has an ice-cold grip on my heart as the phone vibrates with a slew of messages and missed calls. There are two new videos, and without looking, I know what I’ll find. It pings with a new message, proving Pablo is getting alerts on my phone activity and always watching.
Intel now or your mother is dead.
The message is accompanied by a picture of my mother with her head yanked back and a knife held to her throat. Mom is barely recognizable under the multitude of bruises and cuts to her face. Stuffing my fist in my mouth, I try to muffle my anguished cries.
I did this.
She’s hurting because of me.
I should be the one all bloody and bruised, not my mother.
I’m not a religious person, even less so since Mom’s precious God let this happen to us, but I pray now as I send the files to that Sinaloa monster, begging God to spare my mother and these innocent women.
If there is a price to pay, let it be me who pays it because everything that has happened is all my fault.
My entire body shakes as I wait for a reply. It comes five minutes later. An instruction to meet Diego and Alvaro at a diner two blocks away. I don’t want to go, but he’ll kill my mother if I’m a no-show. I change into jeans and a nice top and put some makeup on as if on autopilot. All the blood has leeched from my skin, and no amount of blush or bronzer disguises it. The uncontrollable shaking hasn’t gone away either, and I need to get a grip before I give the game away. I concentrate on my breathing, slowly inhaling and exhaling, feeling the pull deep in my belly as I attempt to lower my heart rate.
When I’m as composed as I can be, I grab my purse and my cartel cell, leaving the cell Cristian gave me behind in case Pablo’s goons have any ideas of putting tracking software on it. Then I leave my bedroom and hope it’s not the last time I’ll see it.
“Going out?” Cristian inquires when I reach the kitchen. He’s standing in front of the coffee machine, wearing a slight frown.
“Yes, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. You are free to do whatever you want in your downtime,” he says, offering a smile that doesn’t seem entirely genuine. “I made you a coffee. I can put it in a takeout cup if you want to bring it with you?”
He is such a thoughtful man. I can barely speak over the painful lump clogging my throat. “Thanks.”
His eyes pin me in place as his frown returns. “Is everything okay?”
I force a smile. “Yes. I’m just meeting a…friend.” I almost choke on the word. “I shouldn’t be too long.”
His probing gaze continues to stare at me as his frown deepens. “It’s dark out. You should take John Angelo with you.”
“I was planning to.” I want Pablo’s goons to see my bodyguard. To know if they try to murder me, they might end up losing their lives too. I’m not planning on going any-fucking-where without John Angelo. He may be the difference between life and death.
“Good.” He doesn’t look happy as he transfers my coffee to a travel mug. “Here. This should keep you warm.”
My hands barely feel the warmth as they wrap around the mug. “Thanks, Cristian.” I fake another smile before walking off, hoping it’s not the last time I see him.
“Sloane.”
Cristian stops me when I reach the archway into the entrance hallway. I glance over my shoulder, willing my hand to stop shaking. “Yes?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
No! Help me! Help my mother! End this nightmare for both of us. “I’m fine,” I lie. “I’ll see you later.”
“Enjoy your night,” he says, but his tone and his eyes lack all trace of his usual warmth.
John Angelo walks by my side as we head in the direction of the diner. His towering frame, broad body, and alert eyes offer some comfort, but it’s only fleeting. I drain my yummy coffee in record time, but it does little to warm my icy bones. I pepper my bodyguard with questions to keep myself distracted. He gives me short, clipped answers, and I’m probably annoying the shit out of him, but the older man is too polite to tell me to shut up.
The closer we get to the diner, the more my nerves fire at me. By the time we reach the door, I’m a certifiable mess, and I need to get my shit together. I work hard to pull a mask over my features. To slip into the role of Sloane Clark, but it’s challenging. Perhaps it’s just as well I didn’t get to finish my studies. I’m not sure I have what it takes to be an actress.
“Do you want me to come in or wait outside?” he asks, and I dither over how to respond.
Sloane Barton wants him to come in and protect me, but would Sloane Clark ask a bodyguard to come inside when she’s on a date? I worry my lower lip between my teeth before making my decision. “If you could stay out here, please.” I’m trusting he’ll still keep a watchful eye from outside.
“No problem.”
“Thanks,” I whisper before I pull my big-girl panties on and open the door.
Once inside, I scan the room for the two assholes, but they aren’t here yet. A waitress seats me in a booth facing the window upon my request. Being able to see John Angelo gives me a small modicum of relief. I order a chai and a muffin and try to steady my nerves as I wait for them to show up.
I’m on edge as the waitress carries my order to my table. Where the fuck are they? I want to get this over with. I sip my tea and force a few mouthfuls of muffin down, but it tastes like sandpaper, and my stomach churns unpleasantly as the seconds tick by.
My heart jumps into my mouth a couple of minutes later when my phone vibrates with a new message. I open it under the table, nearly spewing the contents of my stomach when I read the command to go to the bathroom.
My legs almost go out from under me when I slide out of the booth, but I force one foot in front of the other and make my way to the bathroom, feeling John Angelo’s eyes on me from outside. Opening the door, I encounter a long, narrow hallway with four doors. I’m heading toward the female restroom when an arm reaches out from the wheelchair-accessible bathroom, and I’m yanked inside.
A hand clamps over my mouth to smother my startled cry. The lock clicks as Diego circles the front of my body. His hard eyes warn me not to shout. Alvaro’s arm wraps around me from behind, tugging my back to his chest. I’m trembling all over and incapable of stopping my body’s natural reaction.
“El Rey isn’t happy with you,” Diego supplies, tilting my chin up with the tip of his gun.
“We have her,” Alvaro says, keeping his arm around me while he thrusts his free arm out, showcasing that sick fuck on the screen of his cell.
“Who is the man following you?” Pablo grits out, glaring at me from the phone.
“One of Cristian’s men. He’s my personal bodyguard. I tried to get him to stay behind, but Cristian is insistent I take him whenever I go out alone.”
The two goons chuckle, and I hate them with the intensity of a thousand suns.
“Cristian, huh?” Pablo arches a brow.
“It’s what he told me to call him.”
Pablo purses his lips for a moment. “What is this shit you sent me?”
Diego keeps the gun pressed into my chin, and a cold sweat breaks out over my body. “It’s all I could get, but it must be important because it was classified, and I had to steam the envelope open to get at the contents.”
“Who are these women?”
“I don’t know, but they must be important.” Please forgive me. I send the thought out to the universe, praying someone keeps those women safe.
“You have disappointed me, my little American Barbie.” Pablo’s glacial tone spears through me like an actual dagger. “Where were you this weekend?”
“At their friends’ house out of town. I had to wear a blindfold the entire journey, so I don’t know where it was, only that it took over six hours to get there.” I lie on purpose, hoping to thwart any efforts they may make to find the property.
“Why was your cell not on you?” he snaps.
“Cristian warned me security would be tight and I would be searched upon arrival. I had no choice but to leave the phone behind. If I’d taken it, they would have it in their hands, and the game would be up. I didn’t have any time to consult with you, and I had to act fast, so I made the only decision I could. Please don’t punish my mother for it. I had no choice, Pablo, please.”
“You don’t seem to understand the seriousness of the situation.”
“I do!” I blurt. “I understand, but you’ve got to give me more time. It’s only been a week. Cristian is smart. If I make a move too soon, he’ll figure it out.” I’m not telling him I crashed and burned already. “Please, Pablo, I’ll get you what you want, but it will take time.”
Pablo stares at me for so long I wonder if he’s even breathing. “Okay,” he says after an indeterminable time, shocking me. He usually goes out of his way to disagree with me, purely for an additional reason to punish my mother. “You have one month, but no longer. That is enough time to seduce the prick and get me what I need. In the meantime, you will install the cameras Diego gives you.”
“I can’t. He has cameras all over his house. They are really sophisticated and completely hidden, but he told me they are everywhere, and they have audio and visual functionality. If I try to plant anything, I will be caught.”
“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” Pablo leans into the camera, his menacing sneer filling the screen.
“Check with your contact. I’m not lying.”
“You’d better not be.”
“I know what’s at stake. I would not gamble with my mother’s life.”
“I think you need additional incentive,” he says before switching to Spanish and talking directly to his men.
Diego grins, removing his gun from my chin and placing it down on the counter beside the sink.
“You will do what you are told,” Pablo says, switching back to English. “You will also meet Diego and Alvaro every Sunday here at the same time for the usual debriefing.” He fixes me with a lecherous smile. “You have one month and not a day longer. Do not disappoint me.”
The call ends. My anxiety skyrockets when Diego takes a step closer and his dark eyes fill with lust. My trembling accelerates as he rakes his gaze over me. Terror tightens my chest, and bile crawls up my throat. Alvaro grinds his hips and thrusts against me, and I’m grateful for my jacket blocking his hard-on from pressing into me.
Two sharp raps sound on the door. “Sloane, are you in there?” John Angelo asks.
Diego lifts the gun, pressing it to my temple as he warns me with his eyes.
My life literally depends on how convincing I am, so I slam my mask down and project calm as I reply. “I’m here and I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m just dealing with some, ah, women’s stuff, but I’m fine.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll wait outside.” I barely hear his footsteps as he leaves.
Diego punches out a message on his cell, and it vibrates with a reply. Lifting his head, he nods at Alvaro, and his buddy removes his arm from around me and shoves me at Diego. “You go first. Watching you blow your load in her mouth will get me really fucking hard.”
“No.” I move to step back, but Alvaro grabs my arms, yanking them behind my back. “Please don’t do this. Let me go, and I won’t say anything to Pablo.”
“Has our little Blowjob Queen forgotten her place?” Diego taunts, dragging my zipper down the front of my jacket.
“And it’s El Rey to you,” Alvaro adds, cupping my crotch through my jeans. “Show the boss the respect he deserves.”
Never. “Please don’t.” I plead again, knowing it’s futile.
“Remove your clothes. I want to come on your tits,” Diego says, groping me through my top and bra.
“Cooperate and we’ll tell El Rey you were a good girl, and maybe he’ll go easy on your mama,” Alvaro adds, fully removing my jacket and rubbing his disgusting crotch up against me from behind.
I zone out as I remove my upper garments, drop to my knees, and open my mouth wide.
