by C. Lymari
“You do know Rivera and Sergio kidnapped his only daughter, and the Sekt helped,” Bastian repeated as if I wasn’t already aware of the fact.
“No shit.” I walked over to the balcony. “A game has started, and players are starting to make their play, I need more on my team. I need an army, one who won’t care to go up against us.”
“You’re going alone, aren’t you?”
My response was a simple nod. All men were proud, but Hispanics, Latin, Italian men guarded their daughters like jewels. They defended their families and doted on their daughters, and to have one taken away, that was a sin all on its own. Franco must be going out of his mind.
“And why won’t Franco kill you on sight,” Bastian asked as he got up and made his way to the wet bar. I cocked my head and studied him. Bas might be older than me in years, but I was brought up in this life since I was eight. I’d lived through the horrors he’d only ever read about.
“Because I promised to make them all pay.” My response carried a lot of weight. Bas didn’t make a big deal to try and decipher it.
The next day I was dressed much like I was the day earlier, except a few more weapons. Damian could bitch and moan for all I cared, but the last thing I wanted was my body in a fucking dress when I needed more weapons than what I had between my legs. Pussy would only get me so far. I had a plan, and for it to work, I needed all my skill sets. A good hunter knew how to catch their prey, and lucky for me, my new prey wanted to be caught.
The door to my room burst open. I turned to look, expecting it to be Bastian, but it was Damian who had strolled into my room. He was done with his touristy getup he was sporting yesterday, and now he’d showered, his hair slicked back, in a three-piece suit and pulling a suitcase.
“Leaving so soon?” I arched a brow at him, not even acting surprised. He would never again get the upper hand with me.
“I don’t need to bother with the filth; that’s why I have dogs at my disposal.” The small scalpel I was stashing in my pants twitched, and I took it as a sign that it wanted to land on Damian’s throat. The hotel management would bitch about the cleaning of blood, and it was too soon to make him pay. I put it away and reminded myself that revenge would come, and it would be delicious.
“Please stop suffocating me with your loving words,” I told him. There wasn’t any love lost between the two of us. Damian’s greed triumphed whatever sort of loyalty we were supposed to have.
“Daphne,” Damian uttered as he fixed his tie. “Make sure our new allies are well taken care of. I don’t need anything questioning our new loyalties.”
Sometimes I believed I was crafted from fire. I felt it in the way my body burned from rage, the way my hands trembled as if I was trying to contain lava in my fingertips. I may have been born from snow, but fire had resided in my soul. I did the best I could to ignore Damian’s words. I controlled myself before I brought everything to blows.
“Would you like me to fuck all of them?” I asked, pretending not to give a shit that he wanted to whore me out. What little reservation I had for the next phase of my plan was quickly diminished when Damian spoke. There was a part of me that held me back and told me that doing what I wanted to do would send me into a tailspin I wouldn’t be able to come back from.
“If that’s what it takes.” He smiled at me, and I stopped myself from flinching. He fixed the button on his jacket then turned around and made his way out of my room.
“Am I included in this fuckfest, or does it only stand for the Riveras and Sergio?” Bastian asked as he made a move for my bed. He made no sound when he came into the room, having slipped in just as Damian was walking out. Putting my finger to my lips, I shushed him. I didn’t trust that Damian hadn’t installed a bug before he left. Bastian followed me to the balcony. I leaned against the rail as Bas’s body came pressing to mine, his hands coming to either side of my hips and gripping the rails.
Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. Bastian was just a sexual guy, even when he wasn’t trying. And right now, he was off pussy, which made him twitchy. His hand came to my cheek, slowly dragging his finger down the curve of my jaw, then tilting my chin up.
“What’s so important you wanted my un…divided atten…tion?” he asked as he tilted his head.
Not being in heels put me at a disadvantage, forcing me to look up at him. While my eyes were like a winter, his were like night. They were crafted from oil, or so people said.
“I’m going to find out where Sergio is keeping the mafia princess. I want you close, distracting them. I need proof, Bas. If I’m going to go to Italy—”
“Are you trying to get killed?” Bastian gritted as his body pressed closer. “It’s one thing to request a meeting, but to go to Italy and look for Franco, that’s fucking suicide. Please tell me you know how fucked-up it is?”
He looked down at me as if I didn’t know the severity of my actions.
“That’s why I need a picture of her. I need to prove that she’s alive; it’s the only way I can get safe passage out of Italy.” I knew I was rolling the dice on my life. Getting the information I needed wasn’t going to be easy. Still, Damian leaving meant there was one less pair of eyes on me. Plus, the Latino men in my company were sexist and were underestimating, so most of the men wouldn’t expect me to have something up my sleeve. Except for him—Gideon would watch me like a hawk. He seemed to have an inkling to when I was going to get myself into trouble.
Unfortunately, when he was around, it seemed to happen more often.
“We have a peeper.” Bastian’s smugness made me curious. I turned my head so I could look down the balcony onto the people, and that’s when Bas took the opportunity to kiss my neck. I felt the brush of his lips at my tendon. Most girls found it sexy; I saw it as a weak spot.
Below, watching us with hunger in his eyes, was Julian Rivera junior. Since the moment I walked into the meeting, I had marked him as a target. He wanted me on my back, and I could use him for information. He wouldn’t be as cautious as his father. Rivera Sr. was as distrusting as they came, but when you built your empire of the backs of others, it was hard not to be on the lookout for the ones who you betrayed.
Sergio was another story. He was big fish in a now full pond. The coke business grew too much for Colombia to handle. Sure, they had production, but they were in over their heads to think they could sit back on their thrones and handle it all. You needed the borders under your control to flood white powder. Unfortunately, for him, Mexico was smack right next to the United States.
Mexico controlled borders there, for they controlled cocaine, but Sergio had yet to get the memo that he would no longer call the shots again. Not to the capacity he desired, at least. The problem with the world? Everyone wanted to rule it. Escobar didn’t know what he started back in the seventies when he opened up a new world.
Smiling down at Julian, I pushed Bastian back and walked toward the door, ready to seduce the one person I vowed never to sleep with again. Just before I walked out of the room, I stopped, not daring to look behind me.
“Bastian, if things…” I didn’t dare finish that sentence. “Go where blood meets faith, and take me home.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing for you to ponder on now only if—”
“You’ll be fine.” There was such conviction in Bastian’s voice that I knew it was more for his sake than mine.
After all this time, he wasn’t used to being on his own. Neither of us knew what to do. We both had our masters whether we admitted it or not. And maybe I should feel guilt for guiding him into hell with me, but all I felt was grateful that I wasn’t alone anymore.
When we stepped outside, I cursed the warm weather since I wasn’t used to it. Waiting next to a Rubicon was Julian with his right hand, Lobo. Julian Junior was young, and I wondered just how ruthless he really was. He wasn’t overly tall but not too short, with light caramel skin and big brown eyes framed with long curly lashes. He had the appeal of the boy
next door, when he was anything but innocent. His bodyguard was dark skinned with a shaved head and tattoos on his neck and arms.
Smiling at them, I walked straight to the car they were leaning against. Lobo got into the driver’s seat, and I took the one behind him while Julian sat next to him. Before Bastian could get in, Gideon was sliding into the seat next to me.
The smell of methanol mixed with Chanel’s Allure filled my senses. It was something classy mixed with a hint of wild that made it so alluring. Ignoring his presence, I focused on the drive, knowing Bas would try to go in Sergio’s or Rivera’s car to try to get more information.
“Tell me, morra, other than Russian, English, and Spanish, what other languages do you speak?” Julian turned around, giving me a grin.
“Well, there’s Mandarin Chinese, Arabic, Hindi,” Gideon answered for me.
And I’m about to get reacquainted with my Italian. Of course, I wasn’t going to say that aloud; instead, I gave Gideon a coy smile before I spoke. “I didn’t realize you were an encyclopedia on all things Daphne.”
“Oh, Petal, there’s tons you don’t know about me.” The wicked grin in Gideon’s face made my lower stomach recoil tightly. I could feel how wound up it got me. I was like a blind knot, and the only way to fix it was to make it snap. Then again, the grin on Gideon’s face promised to show me a few things I didn’t know about him, and whether I liked it or not, I needed him.
Leaning close to him, I whispered in a sultry voice that was almost a moan, “Maybe you could show me.”
Gideon kept his face blank so the two men in the front wouldn’t know the effect I had on him, but we both knew better. The flare of his nostrils, the bobbing of his throat, and his shallow breathing all told me what he was too proud to say. My babushka told me a long time ago that if I was going to fuck a man, I might as well get something in return for it, whether it be an orgasm or a picture of proof I needed.
“Have your northern wolves given you any more trouble?” I cocked my face to the side so Julian could see me better. Deliberately, I bit my lower lip and watched as he raked his eyes over my lips, then lower to my breast.
“Mate.” Gideon clasped a tattooed hand on Julian’s shoulder. “I suggest you don’t play with fire when it comes to this one. She tends to leave a bloody mess.”
“Everyone loves a bit of wickedness now and then,” I taunted both men. Julian was eating from the palm of my hands; Gideon not so much.
His whiskey eyes darkened, and he leaned a bit into my space, engulfing me with his smell. “Petal.” He purred the fucking nickname in a gravelly voice that did funny things to my body. “You don’t know the meaning of a little wickedness. You straight up relish living in chaos.”
Touché. I gave a slight nod and watched as our jeeps went deeper into the Colombian jungle.
Colombia’s paramilitary groups fought to better their country from corrupt politicians. Both sides fought with lead and paid with powder. The coke trade was their moneymaker, and as much as they hated the Mexicans, they needed them to flood the United States with their white powder.
Escobar couldn’t have known the Pandora’s box he was opening when he unleashed cocaine into the world. Tents were set up all around camp, men in military outfits patrolling while the workers packed the product. As soon as the car parked, Bastian was on my side, helping me get out. No matter the training I gave him, he still tended to worry. I needed to keep reminding myself he was fresh.
“Pasenle, pasenle, estan voz esta en su casa. Como le gusto la selba nena?” Come, come, you’re at home. How did you like the jungle, babe? Sergio put a hand to my lower arm and led me to the center of his operation. With casual ease, I glanced around. After all, I was here on Sekten orders. Sergio didn’t need to know that I was gauging how far away his men were stationed from each other. What kind of weapons they had or the fact that the trees to the west left a blind spot from the other side of camp, leaving them vulnerable to an attack. No one was that stupid to make an attack like the one I planned.
I’d like to think I wasn’t stupid, but my decisions tended to say otherwise.
“La Sekta le gustara saber que todo esta en orden.” The Sekt would like to know everything is in order. The Sekt was the best at everything they did. There was no denying that. My great-grandmother had learned from the mistakes of her father. She’d discovered the flaw in men, the blindness power caused. All that blindness was the downfall of their empire. She taught my mother the art of men, to seduce with words and not just the body, to feed them lies and let them see what they wanted. I was trained to be a weapon.
Men quickly thought me stupid. It wasn’t until they saw death in my face that they realized their mistake. Unfortunately for me, the man whose eyes were boring into me didn’t underestimate me one bit. I could get drunk on his gaze alone, and I wouldn’t be easily fooled again.
“You know what I don’t understand?” I whispered low enough for Sergio to hear me. “Why is the Rivera cartel here? We both know that with the Sekt alone, you won’t need their contacts to cross snow into the united states.”
Sergio smiled at me, his dead eyes sparking with a fire of death. “The same reason you’re here. Manten a tus amigos cercas…”
Keep your enemies closer.
Sergio turned his back to me and walked away. Like me, he knew the Sekt could be his biggest ally but also their deadliest enemy. With agents all over the world, you never knew when they would strike.
“Should I start making you guys best-friends-forever charm bracelets? That looked like it went well.” Bastian stood next to me, full of humor.
“He’s not the complete idiot we thought he was. That reminds me, I need you to hire men.”
“But I’m not allowed to bring anyone into the Sekt yet.”
Bas hadn’t paid his dues; he hadn’t bled for the cause he was still being tested for. And I was only allowed to bring someone once every four years. It was a rule that had been set early, one ensuring that not one person would hold too much power.
Ideology was a beautiful thing to have. Too bad it was just that—an idea.
“They will be your personal guard.” I led Bastian away from the soldiers, walking around closer to the blind spot in the camp. “Remember what I told you in New York?” Bas’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. We both knew how much pain it caused him to be reminded of her and his stupidity. Bas learned the hard way that you couldn’t trust anyone, and family was just a word and nothing more. “It’s just a matter of time before they chose the next city to open shop at.”
Chicago was a fail; all it did was gain attention. But of course, the United States government didn’t want word getting out, so they downplayed everything. The organization that had the human-trafficking ring was a mess. It had been easy to infiltrate. I’d saved the asses of more men than I could count by giving the files to Damian after I had gotten copies for my personal collection.
One of the men stupid enough to get caught in the raid was Julian Sr.
Now he was the type of man I despised the most. Men who wanted blind loyalty wanted their men to bleed for them when they were nothing but rats. Julian got his cartel by giving the CIA the head of his boss. The internal war was over quickly with the help of Sergio, leaving scared men or men with no code at his disposal, and that made him the most dangerous of everyone here.
Men with no code didn’t hesitate to stab a knife at your back.
“Don’t you two look cozy.” Gideon walked up to us, making my heart beat erratically, wondering how much he heard. “One would think you were plotting someone’s murder.”
I couldn’t resist myself and smiled at Gideon, who kept looking between Bas and myself. “Yes, yours.”
“Oh, Petal, we both know you don’t want me dead. I’m the only one who saves your arse in your suicide missions.”
“I’m sure I can find a replacement.”
Gideon’s eyes grew dark, and his jaw ticked. I pissed him off, which was a plus, though I co
uldn’t understand why exactly. I also told myself I didn’t care.
“Give us a moment, Kingsley,” Gideon demanded without looking at Bas. We both knew he used Bas’s last name as a weapon to show he knew who he was.
“This might be the time she actually kills you.” There was humor in Bas’s tone. He patted Gideon’s back as he walked away.
Not wanting to have this conversation where people were watching, and where someone might hear us, I walked out of the safety of the camp and into the jungle.
“Speak.”
The word was barely out of my mouth when Gideon’s hand was on the back of my neck and his hand at my waist, and he pushed me face forward against a palm tree.
“What the fuck,” I gritted out.
“Don’t.” He spat. “I am sick and tired of your bullshit right now.”
Gideon pressed his weight on me, and the bark from the tree rasped against my cheek. If I got an infection because of this, I would neuter him.
“I’m here on business,” I spat back.
Gideon didn’t speak right away. I felt his breath below my ear, the brush of his lips behind my nape. I closed my eyes and begged my body not to shiver. I prided myself in mastering control over my body, and I would be damned if it failed me now.
“Petal,” he murmured. The vibrations of his voice against my skin sent a shock wave straight to my core. I bit my lip, grateful my back was to him. That was until I felt his finger digging below my waist.
“Gideon,” I warned.
He let out a dark chuckle but didn’t stop. His fingers made their way down fast, his palm flattening against the curve of my ass. I held my breath, and then I felt him cupping my pussy.
“What are you up to?” he breathed against my neck as his hand roamed between my legs.
“Unless you want to die, let go of me,” I managed to say.
“Nice,” he chuckled. “Now, try saying it like you mean it.”
