Claimed as Revenge

by Stone, Piper

  “You will die for this.”

  I almost wanted to see either her or her father try. “Don’t allow her to leave and if she tries to garner any attention, tie her hands.” My command was not to be questioned.

  “Will do, boss,” Enrique said with a grin.

  I adjusted my jacket and cuffs before heading into the restaurant, bypassing the hostess. I knew the location well, had enjoyed many incredible dinners. I scanned the main dining room, locating Santiago and his party easily. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care that I was approaching. I wasn’t surprised he was with a beautiful woman. He was a known philanderer, another aspect I couldn’t tolerate.

  “Good evening, Santiago.” I stood just off to the side, my eyes sweeping the immediate area. He had two of his goons protecting them, partaking in their own feast only two tables away. Within seconds, their jackets were opened, their heavy firepower evident.

  Santiago lifted his napkin, wiping his mouth then shifting his hand in a wave to stop his soldiers from reacting. “Miguel. So nice to see you. I must admit, I have missed being in Miami. Beautiful city. Passionate people. And the music is powerful. Would you like to sit down, have some dinner with us?” He eased his hand around his glass of wine, no apparent fear of my presence.

  The female, on the other hand, was obviously in distress, soft whimpers spewing from her ruby-stained lips.

  He seemed annoyed by her reaction. “Be a doll, sweetheart, and head toward the ladies’ room.” It wasn’t a request but a command, one she followed without hesitation.

  I studied the wine he’d selected, taking one of the water glasses and pouring the remnants into his almost finished soup bowl in front of him then pouring a glass for myself.

  His upper lip curled as he pushed back from the table, tossing the napkin. “What the hell do you want?”

  I eased the glass in front of me, twisting and turning as I savored the flavor. “Excellent choice, Santiago. What do I want? What is owed to me.” I took another sip before staring him directly in the eyes.

  “I owe you nothing. I kept our terms of the agreement. We are both making money in only two weeks’ time. Significant money.”

  I smiled as I leaned over, making certain only he could hear what I was about to say. “That’s where you’re wrong. Granted, money has exchanged hands and I intend to make more, but I am also well aware of the arrangement you made with certain... individuals. Those people intend on destroying a portion of my business. As you might imagine, that’s not going to be tolerated.”

  He truly seemed surprised I’d figured out that he was behind the near sabotage. “I ask you again, what do you want?”

  “It’s not what I want, Santiago. It’s what I’m taking. Valencia is now mine.” I took another sip, enjoying the way the smooth liquid slipped down the back of my throat.

  “You. Wouldn’t. Dare.”

  “Yes, I would, and I have. Call it payment for your indiscretions.” I slapped the stem on the table, leaning further in. “As far as the rest of your requirements, I will be in contact. I suggest you leave Miami tonight or things just might get ugly.”

  When he seemed completely befuddled, his face turning bright red, I knew my message had been received loud and clear.

  My father had taught me well.

  There are far better ways of destroying your enemy than the use of violence.

  I’d just proven that point.

  And there would be more to come.

  Chapter Six

  Valencia

  “I hate you. I will always hate you. You can take my body, but you’ll never be able to take my heart.”

  The words were spat out at the brooding Puerto Rican as if he really gave a shit. I knew better. I was intimately in sync with a man of his power.

  And dominance.

  Every aspect of his being was infuriating, demanding.

  Intoxicating.

  I closed my eyes, crushing down my libido. Miguel honestly believed that he could simply own me, a possession. I laughed bitterly, even though I knew the possibilities were real. Men like Miguel Garcia took what they wanted without hesitation.

  Men like Miguel left haunting memories, scattered fears.

  Endless desires.

  When Miguel had closed the car door with a hard thud, I’d jumped, glaring at him as he walked away, ever so suave in his actions, cool as a cucumber. He exuded danger as well as sex appeal, every girl’s fantasy.

  Precious minutes had ticked by, my mind reeling. Did my father really not care enough about his own daughter to allow this to happen?

  I folded my arms across my chest, the feel of my aroused nipples scraping the thin material of my dress another reminder how my own body had betrayed me on several occasions. How had Miguel found me?

  More important, what was he planning on doing?

  My father wasn’t a stupid man. He was always prudent about travel plans, making certain that every detail was organized, security in place at every location. Several of his own men had taken the trip with us, the soldiers well trained killers.

  Two of them had been assigned to the fashion show, both capable men.

  Although I hadn’t seen them.

  I shuddered at the thought, the realization that I could have been brought here as payment for a deal gone bad.

  Should I be afraid of Miguel? I knew his reputation. I’d followed various news reports after his departure, finding every scrap of information about him on the internet. He was ruthless in every aspect, a man to be feared by men and women alike.

  He was also well educated and highly intelligent, earning a full scholarship to Harvard. In my mind, that made him even more dangerous.

  He and his family had been connected to several murders but no one in the illustrious Garcia family had ever been convicted or spent a day behind bars. They were notorious in every manner, ruling their kingdom with the kind of muscle and power that terrified politicians and law enforcement alike. While they had their share of enemies, no one had been capable of moving in on their turf at any time.

  They were also brutal in their acts of retaliation.

  Who does that sound like?

  I closed my eyes, hating the inner voice but she was right.

  Abduction.

  I’d been taken against my will, likely to be chained in some cage like an animal. I glared out the window, studying the two men who’d been assigned to guard me. They were huge monsters, no doubt all brawn and no brain. I allowed my eyes to sweep the garage, daring to look behind me. There wasn’t a single soul in sight.

  The arrogant bastard thought he was bigger than the law or my father. Miguel was nothing but a lowlife asshole. Nothing more.

  Although I knew in my heart that wasn’t entirely the case.

  Sexy.

  Muscular.

  Divine.

  Dominant.

  “Jesus,” I whispered, dampness pooling between my legs.

  I’d caught a glimpse of him at the concert, although I hadn’t been certain until he sat down beside me only an hour before. Why did he bother coming to the event? I rolled my eyes. As if Miguel could care about anything other than himself.

  I pressed my fingers across my mouth, remembering the passionate kiss. The scent of him remained dancing across my skin, just like it had after he left weeks before. I had honestly never thought I’d see him again and I’d been happy to assume that would be the case.

  I’d also hated him.

  Then I’d hungered for him, fantasizing about our time together every night. My collection of vibrators hadn’t been enough to satisfy my needs. Only the man with the hard edge could do that.

  I was shocked and embarrassed I’d allowed him to get under my skin once again. He was a crime lord, nothing better than a common thief.

  Just like my father.

  I wanted to leave the lifestyle, to hide away in some foreign country, living like a normal girl. Instead, I’d been captured by the enemy.

  To use.
>
  To train.

  To discipline.

  To fuck.

  His words remained in the forefront of my mind. Over my dead body. I would find a way to escape.

  I’d overheard my father cursing Miguel’s name, ordering his soldiers to shoot him on sight should he ever attempt to come into our country again. But my father had made a deal, using me as collateral in case he failed to honor the conditions.

  I realized that he’d had no intention of honoring anything, including his relationship with his only daughter. I was nothing to him but a possession, just like my mother or his beloved cars and boats.

  I sat back, contemplating what if anything I could do. I had girlfriends in this country. I knew that they would do anything for me. All I had to do was get access to a phone. That should be easy enough.

  A single tear slipped past my lashes, further infuriating me. I certainly wasn’t going to allow Miguel to break me. Not now. Not ever.

  I turned my head, watching the two men as they bantered, their bodies animated. And they were paying absolutely no attention to me. I crawled into the driver’s seat, darting my head in their direction again before slowly opening the door. I was able to slip out and latch the door without any noise. I remained crouched next to the car for a few seconds as I studied the area around me, hugging my purse close to my chest.

  All I had to do was get to a phone then hide, waiting for my BFF to take me the hell away from here.

  And the man who held my leash.

  Anger surfaced once again, fury at not only Miguel’s actions but being forced to accept I was simply a prized possession on every front. My father. My... lover.

  I held my breath, taking another glance at the beefy soldiers, saying a silent prayer before darting around the vehicles next to me. The slight sound of my heels clipping against the concrete was enough to give me heart palpitations. When I heard the loud voice of one of the men, I struggled forward another few feet before yanking the shoes into my hands. I took off running toward the bank of elevators located at the far end of the garage. I just needed to get inside.

  Come on. You can do it.

  The little voice bolstered my speed, my legs pumping as I weaved in and out of several of the parked cars. This was my only option and even then, the outcome wasn’t in my favor. A man like Miguel no doubt had soldiers positioned on every street within close proximity. I hiked up my dress, the damn material hindering my speed. They were right behind me. Jesus.

  I shot a look over my shoulder, horrified to see they were within twenty feet, both shouting, cursing at me as if I was nothing but a runaway child.

  I loathed the predicament I was in, hated everything including myself. I was within thirty feet of the elevator. Elation swept through me, a heightened level of adrenaline kicking in. I was confident. I was strong. I was ready to do anything I took to get away.

  The slight pinging sound of the elevator was like sweet music, forcing me to concentrate on the task. I shot into another aisle. Headlights approached at a rapid rate of speed, a vehicle coming. My instinct screamed that they were racing toward me. I heard the screech of tires, as the driver raced around the corner, the car swerving from the momentum. Then everything happened in slow motion.

  “Stop!” one of Miguel’s men screamed.

  “Gun. The asshole has a gun!” the other yelled, the sound echoing even in the open space.

  My feet skipped along the broken surface, catching me off guard. I was propelled forward, stumbling, my body teetering, ready to pitch me toward the ground. No. No! Flashes occurred in my periphery of vision, a window being rolled down, my eyes able to focus on the barrel of a gun.

  Pain roared through me as I attempted to catch myself, the action only shoving me hard against a metal surface.

  I fell against the back of an SUV, stunned, my ankle screaming in pain.

  And there was nowhere to hide, no way to get away from the approaching car.

  I threw out my hands, a harried yelp pushing past my pursed lips. Please, God. Help me. Help... me!

  Pop! Pop!

  I went down with a brutal thud, everything in my body riddled with intense pain, a heavy weight shoved on top. I could no longer breathe, my lungs suffocated by the mass above me, my shoes flying out of my hand.

  “Let me go. Please.”

  “Quiet. It’s me. Stop struggling.”

  Miguel.

  I’d know his sultry voice anywhere.

  He wasted no time, gathering me into his arms, jerking me onto my wobbly legs and grabbing my heels, his body covering mine.

  I heard another round of shots being fired, tires screeching once again and only seconds later, I was tossed into the open elevator, slammed against the back wall.

  “Fuck. Fuck!” Miguel hissed, moving away from me long enough to smack his hands on the buttons on the console.

  I took gulping breaths, the terror paralyzing. I closed my eyes, woozy from the pain, cowering in the corner. I had difficulty focusing but I could see the man, my captor moving to his full height, rage encompassing every inch of his face. When he slammed his hand against the side wall, I grimaced, jumping involuntarily.

  His breathing remained ragged, the sounds of the metal box shifting the only thing I could concentrate on. He slapped his hand on the console again, the elevator jerking to a stop, the slight thud reverberating in my ears.

  Miguel finally turned toward me, crowding my space, dropping my shoes and wrapping his hands around my wrists. When he yanked me into a standing position, I gasped at the vehemence. “What the fuck did you think you were doing? I told you to wait in the car. I made certain you understood that there were dangerous people who considered you a threat to their way of life. You were a stupid little girl. You almost died. If I hadn’t been there, if my men hadn’t been keeping watch over you then... Then you. Would. Have. Been. Killed.”

  I heard what he was saying. I could feel the anger surrounding his tense body and even understood the meaning.

  Only my mind had difficulty processing anything. I was lost. I was sick. I was alone.

  I was his prisoner.

  He took gulping breaths before pulling me into his arms, placing his hand on the back of my head. The warmth of his body and his rapidly beating heart were enough to calm the fear, the ragged edge of my nerves.

  “That was stupid, Valencia. That was... You’re never going to do that again. Jesus.”

  I clung to him like some wayward child, catching my breath as the realization set in that there was someone else out there determined to kill me.

  Who?

  Why?

  I could only imagine.

  He took a series of deep breaths before easing me against the elevator wall, cupping and lifting my chin with one hand. His gaze was full of admonishment but also something else.

  Fear.

  I’d never seen that kind of emotion in him. He was always in control, a dark and dangerous man. Today, he’d taken a misstep of his own, something I doubted would ever happen again.

  “I’m... sorry,” I managed. The way his fingers dug into my skin was invigorating, yet a distinct reminder of the demanding man he was. I clenched my jaw, every nerve standing on end, the electricity almost blinding in its effect. When he lowered his head, his lips almost touching mine, I realized I’d moved to standing on my tiptoes, forcing our mouths now a mere centimeter away. I drank in not only his rich and exotic scent but the rage encompassing everything about him.

  As he’d told me before.

  He never lost.

  The attempt on my life had thrown him.

  I reached down, rubbing my hand against my ankle, wincing. At least it wasn’t broken.

  “Are you? Are you really?” He laughed softly, taking a step back and raking his hand through his hair. He gazed down the length of me, visibly cringing. “I’m not certain you really are, but you are going to listen to me and by God, you are going to follow my orders. Do you understand?’

  “Yes.�
��

  “I didn’t hear you.”

  “Yes!”

  Once again, he closed the distance between us, his eyes mere dark pools of the man inside. “I will ask you one. More. Time. Do you understand?”

  What the hell did the man want from me? Respect. He thought he could garner respect from threatening me. From protecting me.

  From saving my life.

  “Yes. Sir.”

  His features softened and he issued a slight nod. “Better. You will learn. Period.” He turned toward the metal console, his index finger pressing one of the buttons. “How is your ankle?”

  “Fine.”

  He slammed his hand against the cold metal, his frustration clawing to the surface once again. “We’ll put ice on it.”

  “I told you, it’s fine. Really.” As the elevator shifted into rising once again, I continued to shiver.

  From what had almost occurred.

  From what would happen in the future.

  From the emotions rolling through me.

  He shifted his gaze in my direction, his shoulders heaving. “Do you understand that your father offered you to me, that he was willing to do this to his own daughter for a drug deal?”

  I was actually supposed to answer the damning question? I certainly wasn’t going to allow him to see a hint of doubt regarding my father. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My father is merely using you, nothing more. I am his princess.”

  The words seemed to amuse him, a smile curling across his mouth. “Believe what you want. I know the truth. When you’re ready to learn, you can let me know. Until then, I am your master.”

  Master? I clenched my fist, wanting nothing more than to beat him to a bloody pulp. Instead, I fisted my mouth, biting back nasty words and angry shouts. I knew that wouldn’t do me any favors.

  Somehow, I managed to slide the heels onto my feet, my ankle throbbing, yet I refused to give in to my weakness. I swayed back and forth from the hard chill, quivering all over. I was sick inside, more apprehensive than I’d been in such a long time.

  Since Miguel had been in Cuba.

  Since he’d taken me for one amazing night.