by C. Lymari
“When I stab a dagger between your eyes, you’ll know I mean it.”
He turned me around and slammed my back against the tree trunk. Gideon bit his lips as his eyes bored into mine. His hand came to my chin, gripping it, asserting his dominance. “The only thing stabbing is my dick inside your pussy.”
A slow smile spread across my face, knowing I had him where I wanted him. It would be foolish to let him win easily; he would get suspicious.
“Gideon, you need to let that go. It was a long time ago,” I murmured. I tried not to think about our encounters if I could help it. I knew one year ago was not a long time to forget, because for me it was still fresh, and I hated myself for it.
He brought his face even closer to mine, and when he smiled, the whiteness of his teeth was blinding. He pressed his forehead against mine, and I held my breath. I could use my body to get what I wanted. It was just another weapon in my arsenal, but emotions were a weakness that got beat out of me at a young age.
“Petal.” He sighed the nickname he gave me early on with want and tenderness. I needed to get out of here fast. “I’ll never forget the way you felt wrapped around my cock.”
I bit my lip before I could kill the moment. Vulnerability wasn’t something I ever did, but I allowed myself the feeling now. My hand shook as I raised it to cup Gideon’s cheek. He was smooth and cool despite the warm weather. He cocked his head to the side, burrowing into the warmth my hand emitted.
“Your voice has whispered my name more times than I care to admit.” The confession was easy to make, but that was the thing about lies and games— they were best believed when you added a little truth to them.
Gideon’s eyes flashed with desire. “Will you ever forgive me?”
It was I who had to beg for forgiveness. I gave him a sad smile. When I pushed him away, he let me. My back was to him, but I knew he was still watching me.
“Maybe, just maybe I’ll go to your tent.”
I didn’t have to turn around to know he was grinning. I walked back into camp, feeling like shit, but knowing there was no other way to get what I wanted.
Heavy was the head that wore the crown, and mine was making me bleed.
There was something to be said about a woman who knew what she wanted. It was sexy. Also frustrating when the same woman denied she felt something for you. I leaned back against the palm tree, watching the way Daphne’s arse swayed against her tight black trousers.
She wanted me. I knew it down to the marrow of my bones that she was mine, but she had yet to come to the same conclusion. Reaching behind my ear, I pulled a cigarette, then put my hands in the pocket of my jeans and took out the black Zippo lighter. After all these years, I didn’t think she knew I had it.
Before going back to camp, I walked through the jungle vicinity but making sure I stayed out of reach. No one trusted anyone, and putting us in the jungle together perhaps wasn’t the best idea. Not when every single person here was a predator and had no qualms about getting bloody.
People wondered how I stayed alive for so long. It was because I treated death like a pesky friend that always loomed near me, tempting me. My plans always involved the worst fucking scenario, and I went from there.
I liked to keep an ear to the ground, always wanting to know what everyone was up to. Asking questions here and there, being able to piece the missing pieces, made it easier to make the right calls.
When I went to the States to pay Falcon a visit, I found out about what the Sekt had been up to across the pond. Had I been a better man, it would have made my skin crawl. I knew Bastian Kingsley came from money; his family were oil tycoons. He was going to marry Katia Von Ives, another socialite. It was no secret Katia loved her drugs, and that her family renounced her. Nothing was ever heard of her again. Kingsley moved heaven and earth to find his fiancée until he found her a few years ago in New York.
Too bad the poor fucker had to watch her die before his eyes. Daphne took the broken, rich boy and turned him into a monster.
Was I jealous of their relationship? Fuck yeah, I was. It wasn’t long after we spent a week together and she gave herself to me like she’d never been with anyone before, and then after that she was seen with that arsehole.
“Who’s there?” a voice rang out.
Walking with my hands raised and the cigarette still in my mouth, I said, “Relax, mate, it’s just me.”
My tone was calm and my smirk full-on as I saw the arsehole who worked for Sergio pull his jeans up. There were scratch marks on his arms, and I pretended not to hear the sobbing that was happening on the other side of the tent.
“She’s fine,” the soldier said with a heavy English accent.
Knowing I wasn’t going to get anywhere, I gave him a nod, then turned around and walked away. I had an inkling of what they would do with the mafia princess, especially after seeing Damian here.
The Sekt was up to something, and I planned to find out what. Making Daphne mine would just be a bonus. She was all the things that were wrong with the world, but as long as she was by my side, I didn’t care.
I found Bastian sitting down in a chair, keeping a vigilant eye out while he drank water. When I scanned the area, I couldn’t find my filthy Petal anywhere.
“Daph let you off your leash?” I asked, taking a chair across from him.
He smirked, then took a sip of his water.
“I go where Daphne goes. She likes to keep me close.”
Bas would get no reaction from me. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something that might compromise me.
“You think you’re so special, don’t you?” I leaned back in the chair and let my eyes wander to the people packaging the kilos of snow. “Daphne will tire of you eventually. You aren’t the first guy she’s fucked.”
Bastian leaned forward. “But I won’t be last either.”
If I had anything to do with it, I would be the last. Daphne and I had been playing this cat-and-mouse game for far too long. We were the masters of time, having an affair that spanned years, in various countries, but it wasn’t enough to get the bitch to bring her walls down.
Betrayal lingered; it was past time she let hers go.
“Where’s Damian, I haven’t seen him?” I asked instead, aware that Bastian was gauging me. I knew he would report this conversation to Daphne.
Good. Let her know I was coming for her.
“He left.”
“Where? Back to Russia?”
Bastian stood up, pulling back his sleeves. Despite the warm weather, he was wearing a long-sleeve. I saw the S that was tattooed on his wrist.
“That’s Sekten business.”
I grinned at him to not say more. I watched him walk away, irked at the fact that he was on the damn organization. Sekten, or Sekt as people had started to call it, was as elusive as the fucking chupacabras. It was founded in 1922 by spies from all over the world, but it was said that after the fall of the Russian Empire, some of the most prominent families wanted revenge and funded it. I was invited, but the vote had to be unanimous for you to get in. I was off by one vote. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she didn’t want me there, not when I had seen the show she put on for me.
In my peripheral vision, I saw her walking next to Julian. She was beautiful, the type of beautiful men would go to war for. Long, shiny black hair she kept braided to the side. Pale face and cherry lips with a bone structure models would kill for. She was short but petite, and the tight clothes she wore accented her trim waist and full breasts.
When she turned to the side, I saw the smile she gave the cartel fucker. He might see it as sweet and flirty, but to me, it was like poison.
Daphne didn’t smile; she only did it when she wanted to get her way. Over my dead fucking body before she got her way with him. She started playing with the tip of her braid, but I knew better. She had a blade stashed in there. The curve of her arse was prominent with the way the sun was hitting her.
Every part
of her was a fucking weapon. One way or another, she was going to bring a man to his knees, whether it be by lust or by blood.
Fuck it.
I made my way to where Daph and Julian were talking, overhearing a bit of their conversation.
“So, you live in Chicago?”
The question seemed innocent enough, since that’s where Rivera was trying to settle his operation but couldn’t do it with Giovanny in charge, but that’s when I knew my petal was here on a different agenda from what Damian wanted.
I didn’t like the head of the Sekt. The Russian fucker had a God complex, and the few times I’d been in his presence, he had rubbed me the wrong way.
“Ah, Chicago, home to the best pizza.” I injected myself into their conversation much to their dismay. “I have fond memories of Chicago, don’t you, Petal?”
“Where were you?” Daphne raised a brow, annoyed with me.
“Miss me?” I asked, draping an arm around her shoulder.
“You wish.” She moved her shoulder, removing herself from my hold. “You’re like herpes—never fully gone.”
Cold.
“You’re like death—not visible but always around.”
She rolled her eyes and walked away.
I turned to look at Julian, who was watching her leave.
“She’ll kill you once she’s done with you.”
The arsehole looked at me and grinned. “Beautiful way to go. Maybe she will leave a flower by my bed tonight.”
Her calling card. She left daphnes as a warning that she was out for you. Like her, the flowers were beautiful but also carried poison. It was a rumor she cooked up most of the Sekt’s toxins. All the beautiful things had a madness to them; all you had to do was open our eyes and see it.
“Better sleep with one eye open,” I murmured.
I made my way to the back to one of the tents. When I walked into the tent they had assigned Daphne, I found her in the process of taking off her shirt. Her hands were gripping the hem of the blouse when she turned to look at me.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, fixing her shirt.
She wouldn’t get naked with me in the room.
“Aw, Petal, did you expect Julian?” I took out the Zippo lighter, making sure the ballerina that was engraved was hidden from her view just to fuck with her, and grabbed another cigarette. I felt her stare as soon as I lit the flame but ignored that for now.
“What are you up to, babe?”
“Don’t call me that.”
I grinned. “Do you prefer Petal?”
“I prefer you dead, but we can’t get everything we want in life, right?” She made a show of removing the small Glock behind her back before she turned to face me.
Slowly, I made my way to the chair that was in the other corner of the tent. I sat down, spread my legs, and took a drag of my smoke. Once I exhaled, I spoke.
“Want a quick fuck?” I wiggled my eyebrows.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for disappointment.”
“Petal, I’ll make you purr.” I rolled the last word, the r’s vibrating off my tongue. “But I think you’re scared you can’t keep up with me.”
Her head snapped my way. She hated challenges because she wanted to rise to them—to prove those who underestimated her wrong. Daphne gave me a smile that made me instantly wary. She strutted toward me, and I leaned back in response, watching her with avid fascination.
She leaned into me, her hands resting on my shoulder, and her body was straddling mine without putting her weight on me.
“I’ve been trained to look like a lady, fuck like a whore, and think like the devil. So tell me, why do you think fucking you would be anything special?” She raised her brow in defiance. “I’ve had hundreds of men—” Her finger came to my chin, tipping it up, forcing me to look her in the eyes. “—and, handsome, you wouldn’t even make the top ten.”
Most men would find this insulting—hell, emasculating—but not me. I took it as a challenge. I smirked at her, getting lost in her stormy eyes. I put both my hands to her waist and ground her against my hard-on. Her pouty lips opened in surprise, but she made no sound. Good, because I didn’t like to share her with anyone.
“I’d fuck you so hard, Petal, your pussy would weep for me, and me only. I’d tear you up, marking you as mine, because the next time you see me, you’d be fighting back a moan.”
Her breathing became shallow, and she was speechless, which I took as a good sign. Her weight was still on my dick, and I wanted nothing more than to sink in her wet heat.
“In your dreams,” she whispered as she got off me.
“All the time, love.” I took another drag of my smoke before I asked her a question that was nagging me. “What business do you have being here? We both know you could have gone with the fucking pale demon when he left.”
She cocked her head, her eyes guarded. “You still don’t like him, huh?”
The first time I met him, I fought the urge to kill him. I sat across from him and watched as he tried to undermine Daphne. It was a beauty to watch her stand up to him. If I could do it all over again, I would have killed him in that meeting.
“He treats you like shit. Anyone else, you wouldn’t hesitate to maim them, but with him, you hold yourself back. You don’t bow to anyone; why should you for that prick?”
Something in her face changed. Dare I say it, even went soft, almost angelic, except she carried death in her veins instead of life. She swallowed, and when she spoke again, her voice was hoarse, making her Russian accent stronger.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Sight.”
I took one last drag of my cigarette, then threw it on the floor and finished putting it out with the bottom of my boot.
“One day, Petal, you’re going to back yourself into a corner, and you’re going to wish I was there to fucking save you.”
As soon as I was out of the tent, I threw my head back, frustrated. Daphne was like the Great Wall of China. Her walls went on forever. Patting my chest, I felt the object I carried around my neck. I didn’t know why Daphne was hunting imperial objects, but I made sure the road would lead back to me. With that thought in mind, I went in search of Rivera.
“Tu gringo,” Sergio’s wheezy voice rang to my left.
“I’m British.” I grinned.
The stupid arsehole waved his hand. “Potato or tomato, same shit.”
Somehow, I managed not to kill him. Some people like Daphne, Bastian, and Falcon conducted their business through the dark web, but not me. People only reached me by word of mouth, and they got one of my satellite phones. When Sergio called, I had almost dismissed it until he mentioned the Estacados. I knew Daphne wasn’t at the fight in NY just to track a hit; she was there for intel.
Stealing one of only two women in that family line was risky but a fucking challenge on its own. The girl was rebellious and always sneaking off. I was quite the charmer until I wasn’t. I took her with hopes of finding Daphne.
Now here we all were, and tensions were fucking high.
“Listen.” Sergio grabbed my shoulder. “Rivera and I have to go handle some business. I want you to stay here and keep an eye on things for me.” He winked at me. “Rivera is leaving his son, but we both know the boy is still a little green, and frankly, I don’t trust the Russian whore.”
“If anyone has a chance in hell to keep her in check, it’s me.” I clapped his back and left for my tent, feeling lighter since I’d arrived at this godforsaken place.
Daphne could choose to bend, or I would make her break.
Change was inevitable. Two things were guaranteed in life. One, time would wait for no one, and two, death was the only sure thing we all had. I’d been dealing with the punches life had been handing me my whole life, but every so often, they worked in my favor.
When Sergio and Rivera announced that they were going out, I delayed my trip to Italy. Whenever men lied to me, I pretended like I believed them.
Bastian was in my ten
t, his eyes boring into the back of my head while I tried to think of what to do. Before either one of us could speak, my satellite phone rang. I debated not answering because I wasn’t in the mood for Damian’s bullshit. Then thinking of him made me think of Gideon.
You don’t bow to anyone. Why should you for that prick?
A part of me wondered what Gideon would think of me if he knew the truth. Kinda ironic that I looked like purity when I was made of the blackest sins.
“Hello?”
“Is it Damian?” Bas whispered, sounding closer.
“I’m going crazy. I need to go.” The feminine voice on the other side of the line tried to be authoritative, but her voice lacked confidence.
“I’ll be home soon.” My voice was somewhat docile.
There was no answer, and the line went dead.
“Complications?” Bas raised an eyebrow at me.
“I need you to get close to Rivera,” I said instead. There were some things Bas needed to be kept in the dark about.
He went back to the stupid chair, the same one Gideon had sat on yesterday. Both men couldn’t be more different if they tried. Even without a suit on, Bas looked fine. The rigorous workouts the Sekt demanded did him good. He had muscles in all the right places.
“If you stare a little lower, you can see my boner,” Bas mused.
I rolled my eyes at him.
“I’m sure someone in this jungle will just love to get on and ride it.”
He patted his lap. “Hop on, gorgeous.”
I flicked him off.
“You need to go on a little trip while the men go to Mexico.”
“They said they were going to the capital,” he stated.
I walked up to the edge of my tent. Opening the flap, I noticed dusk had begun to fall, and I smiled.
“They lied,” I said, while I tried to gauge how many soldiers were out and about. “The Villalobos cartel made a move when they found out Rivera was out.”
When I turned to look at Bastian, he smiled at me. “Let me guess, they got an anonymous tip?”
“Only cowards hide, and they are no cowards,” I told him.
