The elevator doors opened after it finished its descent. I stepped through them, scanning the lobby for the dead eyes that came with being a soul-sucking bastard loyal to a man like Pavel Kuznetsov. For the dead eyes that came with being a man like me.
A murderer. A dealer. A thief.
I found him sitting in a chair by the fireplace, flipping through a magazine absentmindedly as though he couldn't be bothered to pay attention to any of the hotel patrons going about their day in paradise. He sensed me when I stopped in the center of the lobby, his eyes looking up to meet mine. With my mask firmly in place, I gave nothing away as I nodded my head toward the doors that went to the staff areas and the kitchen at the back of the hotel.
I showed him the ultimate disrespect I could to a man in our position. I turned my back on the muscular fucker, pushing through the double doors and claiming the kitchen as my space. "¡Vete!" I ordered, keeping my voice low. Despite the clanking of pots, every eye in the kitchen turned to me, then they quickly made their way out of the kitchens.
The Russian followed, making his way through the crowd of staff escaping the confines of the kitchens. I turned to face him next to one of the stations where someone had been preparing to chop vegetables from the looks of things. He swallowed as he stepped into the empty room, his eyes meeting mine while the stony mask he wore faded in the face of a true opponent.
It was easy for men to pretend bravery when they had connections that gave them very little to fear. Pavel must not have cared for the man much to send him into my hotel against my wishes. "I believe I said I would meet with Pavel after I completed my business in Ibiza," I warned, tapping my fingers against the stainless steel work station thoughtfully.
He puffed up his chest, seeming to reinforce his pathetic attempt at being frightening at the mention of his boss's name. "Pavel is not happy to be put off so you can stick your dick in American pussy," he argued. My fury exploded into full-blown rage at the mention of Isa in such a manner. Even without her name, she was far too good to even exist in his world. "If you're so hard up for a sweet ass, I'm sure Pavel will be happy to sell you someone that suits."
Grabbing the chef's knife off the counter, I held it out and pointed it at him as I took slow, measured steps toward him. He backed up a step, snatching his own knife from next to him as my face morphed into a grin. His uncoordinated lunge for my face was easy to evade with a step to the side as I slammed my free hand down on top of his forearm at the same time I hit him in the face with the hilt of the knife.
Another jab of the knife hilt against the back of his hand loosened his grip on his weapon, and I forced his fingers flat as I shoved it away from his grip. He groaned as I pressed his fingers to lay against the surface, realizing my intent too late and trying to push me off.
With a grunt of annoyance, I stabbed through the back of his hand and into the cutting board beneath, pinning him still. He howled his pain through the kitchen, trying to bend his fingers but finding it impossible with the chef's knife protruding from his flesh.
He'd have one less to worry about soon enough.
I grabbed the knife he'd released, touching the edge of the blade against his pinky finger and pressing down slowly. There wasn't much meat to finger bones when cutting them off, only a little give before the crunch of bone severing vibrated against the knife and it hit the cutting board on the other side.
Slicing his hand open further in his fit to escape, he screamed as blood pumped out of the hole where his finger had once been.
"The next time you so much as mention her, it will be a much larger appendage that I take from you, and I will rip it from your body slowly so you feel every tendon tear." I pulled the knife free from his hand, dropping it back to the cutting board. Blood dripped onto it, staining the wood with red drops. He yanked his hand to his chest, snatching a towel off the counter to wrap around it. "At least it will grow in the moments before the skin splits," I suggested, raising an eyebrow at him as I moved around him toward the doors. "Tell Pavel I will deal with him when I am ready and not a moment before. He does not summon me like one of his whores. Understood?"
He nodded fervently. "Yes, El Diablo."
I smirked. "His next man will go back as a head in a box. If you're smart, you'll make sure it's not you." I shoved through the swinging doors, glancing at my arms to make sure there was no blood on my suit before I made my way toward the elevator to return to Isa. My body hummed with the thirst for more blood.
For death.
I would need to find a method of release over the next week that didn't end in me covered in blood or fucking out my violence on Isa's body. I'd already been too rough with her when I took her virginity, and then again in the shower that morning, and I'd need to refrain for her sake, or she wouldn't be able to walk during her time in Ibiza. It would be difficult to seduce her and show her the beauty of her new home if she never left the bed.
And for obvious reasons, she couldn't know that I was almost as thirsty for blood as I was for her. Given her hesitations as soon as my hands left her body, there was more at stake than I would have liked. Especially considering my reaction to her.
I'd known I was inexplicably drawn to her. I'd known that I wanted to possess her.
But I didn't know I would crave her company and her smile as much as I did. I hadn't known that her happiness would matter to me so quickly. I would take her without it, but I preferred her to be a willing victim in my game, rather than one trapped on a private island, who could never leave.
Stepping into the elevator, I dialed Alejandro. He answered on the first ring. "I know."
"I thought I told you to fucking handle Pavel," I growled.
"I relayed your message, Rafael. I'm uncertain why you think I can control a Pakhan who is an idiota under the best circumstances. He has no sense of self-preservation," he explained.
The elevator doors opened, and I stepped into the hallway outside the penthouse and dropped my voice low. "I want more security brought in. I won't endanger Isa because of negligence. Nobody gets near her without my knowledge. You understand me, Alejandro? This is not something you wish to test me on."
"Of course, Rafael," he said, disconnecting the call to do my bidding.
Just as it should have been.
10
Isa
I lost track of time as I stood and stared at the space where Rafe had been. The suite felt strangely empty, quiet, as though it was a crime to exist in the abandoned space. It wasn't so much that it felt cold, because it was decorated lavishly.
I just didn't belong here.
I snagged my phone off the table and made my way onto the balcony. One of the cushioned chairs called my name, and I dropped into it gracelessly as I scrolled through my recent calls until I found Chloe's number.
"You bitch!" she squealed when she answered, and I pulled the phone away from my ear while I waited for the sound to disappear. "Please tell me you are no longer a virgin."
"I'm no longer a virgin," I confirmed, rolling my eyes to the bright blue sky above my head.
"How was it? Was he as good as he was beautiful?" she sighed, and I could imagine her fanning herself mockingly.
"Can we talk about that later? He had to run downstairs, but I don't think I have much time before he gets back, and I need your opinion," I said, glancing back at the doors. The last thing I wanted was for him to come back and hear my girl talk and let it go to his head.
I had a feeling his ego was already inflated enough.
"That sounds ominous."
"Not really," I said. "He's asked me to spend my vacation with him. He offered to show me the real Ibiza. Which is great in theory, but—"
"Don't you dare 'in theory' me!" she warned. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. If you do not spend the rest of the trip mounting that Spanish stud until you can't feel your ass, then I will," she laughed.
The only thing that kept the unnatural jealousy at bay was the fact that I knew she was kidding
. Chloe was the only person in the world I trusted not to screw a man I'd slept with. "But what about you? We probably won't get to spend much time together. Oh, but I could ask him if you two can tag along."
"Nope. You are not asking him if you can bring your friends along to cockblock him when he seems to have a mind to keep you all to himself. I have Hugo to entertain me, and I want you to enjoy the time with him. Just forget about all the shit waiting for you back home. For once, just have fun Isa, please," she begged, and the sound of it made the uncertainty inside me cave.
I could experience something great, and when I went home, I'd go right back to being responsible and no one would be the wiser. Nobody even had to know about my adventure with Rafael Ibarra.
"You don't think that's a mistake?" I asked. "This was meant to be one night, and now it's over a week. What if I develop feelings for him? How am I supposed to cope with that?"
"Sweetie, you probably will have feelings for him on some level. Just keep it in your head that it has an expiration date, and you'll be fine, okay? Just be safe. Be smart about it. Text me if you need us to bring your things over, and call me every day so I know you’re okay."
"Love you," I murmured.
"Love you too bitch," she laughed, disconnecting the call. I stood from the chair and made my way back into the main space of the suite. While his explanation of the hotel's accommodations with the toothbrush and conditioner made sense, it didn't mean that there wasn't another woman in his life. He spoke of Ibiza as if he called it home.
So what was he doing staying in a hotel room?
If I was going to stay, I needed to know with absolute certainty that he wasn't spoken for, because there was nothing I hated more than a cheater and a liar.
I made my way into the bedroom, going straight for the closet where he'd gotten the suit he wore downstairs. There were no women's clothes or anything outright suspicious, so I went to the navy suit still hanging and slid my hands inside the pockets.
Empty.
With a frown, I turned my attention to the stacks of more casual clothing folded on the shelves and pawed through them, being careful to return them to the way they'd been before my snooping.
"Looking for something, mi princesa?"
11
Rafael
She looked too perfect snooping through my things, her innocent desperation to get to know me manifesting in ways many men might have taken issue with. But there was nothing for Isa to discover inside the hotel room. I would have no secrets from her as soon as it was possible to tell her the truth of who I was.
I leaned against the doorway of the closet, wondering how long she would remain oblivious to me watching her. She rifled through my clothes, doing a decent job of keeping them tidy enough that I wouldn't have realized what she'd done if I hadn't caught her in the act. "Looking for something, mi princesa?" I asked, watching as her entire body jolted with the strike of terror that shook her.
Her hand went to her chest as she spun to stare at me. She swallowed past the horrified look on her face, no doubt taking in my casual stance and my calm smile as I watched her. Despite my rage of only a few moments ago, there was nothing tight in the lines of my body. Just being around Isa soothed the demons that called to me all hours of the day.
Her face morphed into a shy smile as she stepped closer to me. She touched my stomach cautiously, gliding her hands around to my back as she pressed her body into mine and rested her head on my chest. The move was so innocent, so unexpected, that I didn't react for a moment and had no clue what to do. When she turned her stunning eyes up to me and regret leaked into her expression, I bent forward to kiss her, to reassure the insecurity I saw lingering there.
"I was just trying to find out something about you."
"What do you want to know?" I asked with a shrug, wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her back into the comfort of the bedroom.
"Anything," she admitted. "You're an enigma. I know we don't really know each other. At all. But it feels like whenever our conversations get too personal, you try to redirect them back to me. If I'm going to spend all this time with you, I'd like to feel like I know you just a little at least. It would make me feel less like..." She paused.
"Less like what, Isa?" I asked, a growl forming in my throat as the words I'd suspected her to say came tumbling out.
"Like a whore. Like I'm sleeping with you to have a luxury vacation. That's not what this is for me at all," she said. The words hung on her tongue unspoken as she stopped herself, not giving me the words I wanted to hear. "I like being with you," she said instead.
I'd take it. For now.
"There are things you can't know about me just yet. My business is—" I paused. "Cut throat. Because of that, I have to be careful who I trust and what I tell people." I wouldn't lie to her outright, but I wouldn't hesitate to keep things from her if I felt it necessary for her safety, and for the development of our relationship to be what it needed to be.
"What is it you do exactly?" she asked with narrowed eyes, making her way out of the bedroom and back into the living space.
"Sales and investments mostly," I said evasively. "I could tell you all the details of my life outside the specifics of my work, but I don't truly believe that's the best way to get to know someone."
I held out a hand for her as I pulled my cell phone from my pocket to make arrangements for her clothes to be delivered to the hotel, and to have a shopper purchase something for her to wear for that day at least. Our future wouldn't wait for the delivery of her luggage.
Not when I had plans for the day.
"Let me show you who I really am."
The sleek black town car navigated the streets of Ibiza Town as Isa tugged at the white sundress where it touched her thigh, deliberately trying to pull it low enough to cover her scar. I considered the clothes I'd seen her wear in all the photos and surveillance footage I'd seen of her over the years.
Never had I seen her wear anything that revealed her legs. Never had she risked people seeing the scar.
"Eres hermosa," I murmured, turning to her and resting my hand against the scar itself. “You’re beautiful.” She looked down at the touch, staring at the space where the white scar emerged beside either side of my hand.
"There's nothing beautiful about scars," she said, biting her lip as she looked at it.
"Do you find mine so horrible?" I watched her furrow her brow, but she shook her head and pouted her lips at me.
"I don't like to think of someone hurting you like that, but the scars themselves? No," she admitted, though it looked like it pained her to say it.
"That is exactly how I feel about yours, and since my opinion is the only one that matters, there's no need to fuss over it," I said. She huffed a laugh at me, shaking her head adorably. She probably thought me arrogant, like no other opinion could matter after mine because I would be the best she ever had.
She didn't yet know I would be the only man she ever had.
The driver parked alongside the curb in front of the Portal de Ses Taules, and I opened my door. Holding out a hand, I encouraged Isa to scoot herself across the seat and get out on my side. I helped her out, watching as her expression widened and she stared up at the stone wall in front of her. Kissing the back of her hand, I kept it in mine as I tapped the top of the car and closed the door for the driver to retreat until I summoned him.
Normally, I would have driven my McLaren, but finding a parking spot in the area was difficult even for me. Isa would do enough walking that day. I could only be pleased I'd talked her into wearing the flat sandals sent by the shopper instead of her own heeled shoes. She'd appreciate it at the end of the day.
"What is this?" she asked, letting me guide her up the stone ramp to head toward the gate.
"Dalt vila," I answered. "The Old Town. The walls are from the renaissance. The city inside is stunning, and there are little shops and restaurants. It is a must for anyone spending time in Ibiza." We made our way into t
he entrance, Isa's hand reaching out to touch the old stone with trembling fingertips.
"It's really been here that long?" she asked, the history buff inside her forcing her excitement to the surface much like I'd hoped.
Humming my agreement, I captured her hand in mine and dragged our fingers over the stones so they scratched her palm. She closed her eyes; her face pinching as she lost herself to the desire of me pressing into her spine. Of our hands together.
I'd use my touch to manipulate her every chance I got.
I hadn't expected the innocent virgin to be so inclined to my rougher tastes. I'd expected to spend the next few days making love to her sweetly and then slowly acclimate her to the more...
Deviant of my desires.
But that she stood there with me willingly after I'd lost my control with her repeatedly proved just how well-matched we were. She'd give me everything I wanted and beg me for more.
As long as I kept her from questioning if her desires were wrong. I suspected my Isa would battle with that, eventually.
The entryway opened up before us as we stepped through the narrower tunnel. Her face lit as she took in the whitewashed buildings and stone streets. The timing of her trip was unfortunate, but I hadn't been willing to wait any longer to bring Isa to Ibiza just to avoid the summer crowds in Dalt Vila. Vendors lined the streets for the summer, selling all sorts of wares and handmade items. I guided her up the road, passing vendors who smiled at her as if she was their saving grace even as they avoided me entirely.
Nobody wanted to make eye contact with the devil.
Even as my princesa turned wide eyes to them and smiled shyly when she didn't understand what they said to her, they still moved forward as if drawn by her haunted presence. Something in her called to all of us, a history that needed fixing and a mystery that needed solving.
Our fingers interlocked as I guided her forward slowly. "Wait until you see the citadel up close," I told her, squeezing her hand to draw her attention back to me. As much as I loved watching her fall in love with the island, I wanted nothing more than for her to love me for giving it to her.
Until Tomorrow Comes: A Dark Mafia Romance (Beauty in Lies Book 1) Page 12
