by K. Webster
I grit my teeth and tear each photo of him in half. The pieces of the pictures flutter to my lap. With a sound of disgust, I swipe them all onto the floor along with the book. Then, I limp over to the bathroom. It’s stocked with girly stuff. Hairbrushes, perfume, makeup. I can’t help but become giddy over seeing such silly items. But these are simple items I’ve been denied for months.
A burst of fury explodes inside of me. Part of me wants to rage and push all of the pretty things to the floor with a clatter.
But then I remember my plan.
My plan is to destroy them all.
I stare in the mirror and hardly recognize myself. My hair has been blown into soft red waves, and I’m wearing clothes. The dress is loose, but I love how the green is almost the exact shade of my eyes. I look like Poison Ivy from the Batman movies. Except I’m not trying to kill any good guys. I prefer the bad ones.
There is a basket full of unopened makeup, but most of it was meant for darker skin tones. I open a tube of mascara and brush some on my lashes and then opt for some lip gloss. Other than that, my bruises and cuts are on full display. I can even see the small dusting of freckles on my cheeks. At one time, I did everything in my power to hide them.
Now, I don’t care.
The woman staring back at me is poisonous and vicious. She’s not a victim or a delicate flower. This woman has thorns and deadly venom. This woman has a plan to hurt them all.
I smack my lips together before spritzing on some perfume and exiting the bathroom. I’m stopped dead in my tracks by the sight of a man wearing a suit on the other side of my bed, his back turned to me. He’s staring at one of the halves of the pictures I’d torn up and holds the book in his other hand. In my moment of fury, I’d torn them all up and hadn’t bothered to clean up the mess. Of course now, this implicates me as being somehow tied to the Rojas family.
“Jorge warned me this was a trick,” the deep voice rumbles.
I’m stunned frozen. The man is much bigger than me. Broad shouldered with messily styled black hair on top of his head. He exudes strength and power.
“Diego Gomez?”
He turns to the side, and I get a brief look at his profile before he turns to shove the book into the empty spot it came from. I’d expected an old man like Camilo. Not someone closer to Esteban’s age.
“I am,” he states in a cold tone. “What’s your name, ángel?”
He turns around fully to face me. The bed is between us and it seems like such a small obstacle between a cartel king and his captive. But I’m nobody’s victim. Not anymore. Bravely, I tilt my chin and let my gaze bore into the lightest brown eyes I have ever seen. His eyes, not him, are the ones holding me captive as I momentarily get lost in them.
“Name,” he grits out through clenched teeth.
I tear my gaze from its locked position on his eyes and study his face. Tiny silvery white scars crisscross all over his flesh. His cheeks are dusted with dark hair, thicker around his mouth and chin in a half-grown goatee. It’s as if at one time, he kept it neat, but then one day simply forgot to care anymore, giving him the appearance of a wild man barely contained in a neat suit. My eyes land on his lips. Pink and full. So soft for a villain.
“Vienna Berkley,” I tell him boldly and meet his light brown-eyed stare. “Vee.”
His gaze softens as a half-smile tugs at his lips. The bad guys aren’t supposed to be so damn handsome. They’re supposed to be scarred and ugly. Yet here this one is—scarred up something terrible—yet he is anything but ugly. “I’ve been looking for you, ángel.”
I tilt my chin up and bite out my words. “Here I am. And I am not an angel.”
This earns me a wide smile which reveals every pearly white tooth in his mouth. The smile makes his light brown eyes twinkle with delight. “I can see I’m going to have fun with you, mi diablita. So much fun.”
“Touch me and you die,” I bite out, my voice slightly wobbling.
He chuckles. “You Americans are so feisty. It makes Daddy Diego so fucking hard.”
I snort and lift an eyebrow at him. “We Americans also make fun of assholes who talk about themselves in third person.”
He shoves his hands into the pockets of his grey pants, part of a crisp three-piece suit and a perfectly tied, navy-blue tie. He prowls around the edge of the bed. My hackles rise but I refuse to take a step back. His voice rumbles right through me when he says, “Americans are so quick to judge. I’m a friend, not a foe.”
I tense when he rounds my corner of the bed. His movements are quick and stealthy. Like a jungle cat. In a matter of seconds, he’s looming over me and toying with a lock of my hair. He brings it to his nose and he inhales me.
“Why are you here, Vienna?”
I turn to face him, refusing to cower under his intimidation. I’ve spent months cowering. This Diego prick is nothing in comparison to motherfucking Esteban. “Because they decided to hurt and betray me. Because they don’t care about me. I’m here because they think I’m a pawn. I’m here because they don’t know me at all.”
“Fearless,” he murmurs, his face inches from mine. I can smell the lingering scent of cigar smoke from this proximity.
“And angry,” I admit, a slight crack to my voice.
His fingertip strokes my cheek. The movement is gentle and far from sexual, despite his earlier threatening words. “You want vengeance.”
I swallow when his finger slides down the side of my throat. “That’s part of the plan.”
Our eyes lock and a storm brews in his eyes. “What’s the other part of the plan?”
“I like to call it plan D.”
His loud, abrupt laughter startles me. “Ahhh, you are too fucking adorable. I like you.”
I growl after him as he strides to the door, his long legs eating up the distance in no time. “Well I don’t like you!”
He twists the knob and looks over his shoulder at me. “Not yet, mi diablita, but you will. All women like me eventually.” With a wink, he’s gone. And I refuse to admit that his stupid wink made my stomach do a little twist.
I manage to hide out in my room for the next few days. Ingrid brings me food fit for a queen—actual feasts, God bless her—and Tatiana takes care of me in other ways. She fusses over my well-being and brings me gifts. Once she took out my stitches, she brought me some makeup that matched my skin tone and some clothes that were my size. The swimsuit she purchased is a sparkly green two-piece that I absolutely love. I’m not sure what I’m doing here in Diego’s house or exactly what my plan is—despite my lie, telling him I had one—but one thing’s for sure, I’m going to swim in that pool. I may as well enjoy myself before I go on a bad-guy killing spree.
I haven’t seen Diego since he came into my room that day, thank God. I never dreamed he’d be as hot as he is. Not that it matters. But it does make the plan easier. Whatever the plan is. As I put on the new swimsuit, I ponder what the plan really could be. I could always manipulate Diego into liking me. If I earned his trust, then he could send his men after Esteban and Oscar. He could do the dirty work. Then, I could take him out while he sleeps one night.
That plan seems feasible.
But getting men to like me has always backfired on me. The one man I’d always wanted never once touched me until he decided to use me in a ploy for revenge. Punched me in the damn face as if our friendship meant nothing and then raped me, knowing I couldn’t stop him. A normal woman would be reduced to tears. Not me, though. I’m positively fucking furious. The Rojas brothers once again used me for their own personal gain. This is no different than all those summers when Oscar would toy with my emotions and Esteban would laugh at my expense. Their family has always been number one, and I was never a part of it. I was nothing but a silly girl to them.
They are going to regret this.
I’m going to need to make this plan work.
It’s time to show them they fucked with the wrong chick. I’m not playing their games anymore. This time, I’m r
unning the show. This time, I’ll be the one laughing as I make them pay.
I twist my wild red locks into a messy bun. I’ve spent some time on my makeup today and given myself a darker look than I normally wear. I decide I resemble a seductress like Oscar claimed. Good. The cover up Tatiana brought me is cream-colored and sheer. I slip it on over the swimsuit before leaving the safety of my room. I’m heading toward the back staircase that leads to the pool when I hear a voice. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I sneak down the hallway to Camilo’s old office. When I peek around the doorway, I see Diego pacing the office with a phone pressed to his ear.
“She’s fine, cariño. I promise on my big dick. Now take care of those babies. When have I ever not kept a promise to you?” He smiles. “That’s what I thought.” Then his voice grows serious. “Remember…you owe me big for this. And one day soon, I will call on you for repayment.”
I’m dying to know who he is talking to. A wife? For some reason, that thought annoys me. A wife means more baggage. My plan to kill him will grow complicated with more people involved. He hangs up the phone and his eyes dart over to where I’m standing. His shit-eating grin falls away as anger contorts his features.
“Why in the fuck are you walking around the house in your bra and panties?” he snarls, the muscle in his neck twitching.
I curl my lip at him. “Good afternoon to you too, asshole.”
His fury melts away and he grins. “That mouth will get you in trouble one day, mi diablita.”
“I’m going swimming. Want to come?” I grit out. He’s making my plans of seduction very difficult.
Shock flashes in his eyes and his mouth parts. I’ve only encountered him a couple of times and each time, I could easily read his emotions. I’d love to play poker with this guy. I would take him for every penny he’s worth with that expressive face.
“You want me to come swim with you? With you…” he utters and waves at me. “Looking like that?”
I’m stung by his words. “Jesus! Be a prick, why don’t you? I thought I looked nice.” My mouth forms a pout.
He stalks my way and looms over me without actually touching me. “You do not look nice.”
I jerk away from him and storm toward the door. I’ve barely made it to the threshold when a strong hand grips my elbow. I’m forced up against the door jam, and Diego presses his entire hard body against me. His impressive erection stabs at me from behind. When he brings his mouth to my ear, his breath tickles me.
“Nice is a word for grandmas and fucking sunrises. You…” he murmurs as his palm roams around my front to touch my breast through my swimsuit. “You are like a thousand sunrises. Too bright and too goddamned beautiful for human eyes. I’m blind just looking at you, mi diablita.”
His thumb rubs across my hardened nipple, and I gasp. So much for me being the seductress. The man pins me up against a doorframe and whispers a few sweet nothings into my ear and I’m seconds from begging him to strip me out of this nice swimsuit.
“I have too much work to do,” he murmurs before nibbling at my earlobe. “But I can assure you, I’ll be watching. I’ll always be watching.”
I shudder and it’s not from disgust. I’m shocked that my body seems to respond to him whenever he’s near. No fucking surprise there, though. My pussy seems to start flashing like a disco ball whenever a bad guy is in the vicinity.
Diego stalks off to somewhere in the house, and I stand there stunned for a moment. I’m really going to have to get my act together. Falling for the villain is not part of the plan. I’ve done enough of that to last a lifetime.
THE SUN TODAY is killer and hot as hell. I could be inside in the air conditioning, working on shit, but instead, I’m standing on the deck staring at the redheaded vixen lying on a chaise lounge beside the pool. Her eyes are closed while one toe lazily swirls around in the sparkling pool water. Everything about her screams innocent and pure and fucking perfect. The best part about her is her rack. I swear those tits were hand sculpted by angels.
Speaking of angels…
I was given very direct orders by Gabriella Rojas not to touch her friend. When she found out Vienna was in my possession, she cried over the phone. It broke my heart a little to see the tough little thing reduced by her emotions. But when she asked to speak to her friend, I refused. I’m still certain the woman by my pool has an ulterior motive.
Until I figure out what that is, I’ll play the girl’s games. Clearly she’s trying to get into my pants as part of her agenda. And I’d not be a gentleman if I didn’t oblige.
I prowl silently over to where she bakes in the sun. The bruises still dot her flesh and small cuts remain. Despite her injuries, she’s beautiful under the sun’s rays. My hands crave to run my fingertips along her milky flesh, just to watch goose bumps form in their wake. She must have dozed off because she’s fucking serene as she lies there without a care in the world. Her skin is slightly pink, and I know I’ll need to make sure she stays covered so she won’t burn.
“Mi diablita.”
She cracks an eye at me and peers at me with her piercing green orb. “Mi motherfucker.”
I snort and shadow her from the sun as I loom over her. “Where were you all those months?”
She bites on her pink bottom lip and the action makes my cock jolt in my slacks. “How do you know I was missing?”
“I know things.”
A flash of sadness flickers in her eyes, followed by fear. She quickly chases it away with the fiery look she does so well. “Esteban Rojas took me. Held me captive.”
I glare at her. Those hadn’t been the words I’d expected to hear. Sure, they dumped her on my property, but I’d figured it was a one-time thing. “Did he hurt you often?”
Her nostrils flare. “When didn’t he hurt me?”
“So you’re here seeking asylum?” I don’t understand her game.
Her eyes drift off behind me. She appears to be lost. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.” The honesty in her words is raw.
“I can keep you safe here,” I assure her as I squat down beside her and twist a stray strand of red hair in my fingertips.
Her lips pull into a frown. “I’ve been told that a time or two. You men are liars.”
I give her hair a tug. “I’m not.”
“Mmmm-hmmm.”
“If I vow to keep you safe, I will keep you fucking safe. End of story,” I growl.
She simply nods, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
“After you dress, I want to have a little chat with you,” I tell her as I release her hair and stand.
“What’s there to talk about?” Her breasts jiggle as she heaves out a sigh. Those tits are too damn tempting.
“Everything,” I murmur, dragging my gaze from her gorgeous rack. “Dinner. Seven. My office. Wear something sexy.”
She hisses from her lounge chair, and I chuckle as I stride back toward the house.
“I’m not wearing anything sexy,” she calls out after me.
“So don’t wear anything at all,” I say with a devilish grin and wink at her. “Such a naughty girl.”
“You’re disgusting.”
I give her one last look and shrug before walking inside. I’ll show her disgusting.
She walks through the darkness cloaked all in black. Her face is hidden from me. My fingertips twitch to pull the hood from her head, so I can see her. To see the angel who hides in shadows. But I’m bound. Bound and bleeding from a chair. Pain sears inside of me like never before and burns through my chest. She’s somehow ripping me apart from the inside out. Maybe she’s no angel at all.
A pale arm emerges from the dark clothing and points straight at me. The throbbing inside my chest intensifies. I feel as though the witch is trying to tear my heart right from my chest. She makes a motion with her finger. Down, starting from her left, and then up again to her right. It’s a threat. I don’t understand what she means but I know it’s meant to hurt me.
I can�
�t speak to her. My lips are sealed shut. I’m dying to plead with her to make the pain stop but I can’t ask her anything. I am completely at her mercy.
“I could have killed you like five times,” a sweet voice says, cutting through my nightmare.
I blink away the remnants of the dream and sit up in my chair abruptly. Apparently I passed the fuck out face first on my desk. Tatiana is right—I’m not sleeping well. These random catnaps throughout the day aren’t cutting it.
“What time is it?” I grumble and swipe my fingers through my wrecked hair. My eyes finally dart over to find Vienna perched in a chair. She’s wearing a dress that Claudia must have left behind. It’s black and fitted. The low scoop neck reveals the full tops of her succulent tits while the short hem of the dress showcases her creamy thighs that now have a pink tinge to them.
“It’s after eight,” she murmurs. She fingers her messily styled red waves and arches an eyebrow at me. “I really could have killed you. But I didn’t.” Her lips quirk up into an amused grin.
I narrow my eyes at her and try to read the woman. A few days ago, she showed up on my property raped and beaten to a bloody pulp. I discovered she has a past with the Rojas family but no longer seems tied to them. She’s the same girl Gabriella had me locate. I’d expected a victimized woman who I’d need to nurse back to health. What I have sitting before me is no victim. I can practically see the wheels turning inside her head. Vengeance is in every smile and calculation in each glance. She all but admitted to using me for some personal gain. So fearless and bold.
“Come sit in Daddy Diego’s lap,” I utter in a low tone, my gaze once again traveling her milky thighs. “We need to discuss this little plan of yours.”
A flash of annoyance flickers in her shimmering green eyes but she slowly rises. The dress fits her well, even if it is a little on the short side. She’s artfully done her makeup in such a way that she looks much older than her young age. My cock thickens against my thigh as she saunters over to me, swaying her hips. Despite the makeup and the clothes, I sense her nervousness. It doesn’t change the fact, though, that she’s a natural seductress without even trying. The woman is an expert at drawing a man’s eye and getting his dick to do all the thinking. Right now, as she sashays over to me, my head is clouded with thoughts of her and I tangled up under the sheets. It’s been days now since the last time I got laid, something my cock reminds me of as it tries to escape my slacks.
