Claimed as Revenge

by Stone, Piper

  He slapped at my hands, his fingers attempting to pry mine away. Snarling, I finally let him go, taking a single step backward and drawing my weapon. Slumping over, he coughed several times as he attempted to catch his breath.

  I moved back toward his desk, flipping through several of the papers, finding nothing that would corroborate the tip I’d received.

  “I would never...” John’s wheezing forced him to stop.

  “My father would be highly disappointed, John. After all, you’re supposed to be best friends.”

  He stumbled forward, slapping his shaking hands against his desk. “Listen... to me. I did not...”

  I glared at him as he coughed again, angry enough I raked my arm across the various stacks of paperwork. As the papers floated toward the floor, he finally locked eyes with mine.

  “I swear on my wife’s grave I never betrayed you or your father,” he said with extraordinary conviction. “I couldn’t do that. Not after all these years. I went to prison for your father, Miguel. That’s how much I loved him.”

  There were few people John cared about, his deceased wife one of them. For him, desecrating her in any manner was the ultimate betrayal. I pulled back, studying him for a full minute. I’d known by all rights my father should have been the one going to prison. John taking the fall had more than proven his loyalty to the family. However, trust was difficult in my world and once betrayed, there was no return to good graces.

  “Then why did I receive a call telling me that you’ve been working with Santiago, providing information regarding shipments? Dates. Times. Locations.”

  “Who? Who would say such a thing? Jesus Christ, Miguel. The man is an animal. Did your father ever tell you about our business with him years before? We had an opportunity to go to Cuba years ago. I’ll never forget his brand of... hospitality.” He snorted and raked his hand through his thinning hair.

  Now this was getting more interesting. “Why don’t you enlighten me on the details?”

  I heard him, the wretched story fitting the information provided by my father. My father had been in a position to squash any attempts made by Santiago.

  At that very moment, I realized that a plan had been put in motion for years. Brilliant in design, played so well that I never had a hint of it coming. I also doubted John had turned against my father.

  Then again, he didn’t have to.

  Now all I had to do was prove my theory.

  “I’ve always considered myself an honorable man, John. You have one chance to prove to me that you’re still loyal.” John had almost as many connections as my father, including several pertinent individuals in Cuba.

  “I’ll do anything. You know I will.”

  This went against everything I’d been taught. “Set up a meeting with Santiago Rivera on my turf tomorrow as well as find out his planned course of action on the down-low. And John, you are going to be there. Am I clear?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “As you might imagine, I’ll know if you’re lying to me. If that is the case, your death won’t come easy. Or fast.”

  I’d been around long enough to know when the shit was getting ready to hit the fan.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Valencia

  His eyes. I couldn’t get over the horror and pain in Miguel’s eyes watching me suffer from seeing the pictures. I’d seen yet another crack in his armor, a man destined to be haunted by the demons he’d never faced. That’s exactly what I’d been doing since I could remember.

  All I could think about was spending time with him. After my horrific behavior, he deserved an apology. Or maybe I did. Hell, I honestly wasn’t certain. What I did need to know was the truth from my father. I wouldn’t be able to rest until I did.

  I couldn’t get Miguel’s face out of my mind, the taste of him still remaining on my lips from the night before. I’d cried myself to sleep, attempting to pretend I wasn’t living in some horror show. Then I’d awakened in one of the most beautiful settings in the entire world, yet I had no idea who I was any longer.

  A cellist?

  A daughter?

  A lover?

  I stood in the corner shop, listening to the sounds of various women as they oohed and aahed over the brilliant Miami fashion designs. While everything along the strip was incredible—the sights and sounds of salsa music, the exotic scents of perfume and the various food establishments—I was numb inside, incapable of absorbing the grandiose location.

  Clothes.

  The last thing on my mind was purchasing anything, especially clothes. I was still reeling from the pictures, unable to get the one of Rodriguez’s dead body out of my mind. The beautiful little veranda that was positioned on top of his father’s restaurant had been our respite away from the horrors inflicted on the Cuban people. We’d pretended that no one else in the world mattered.

  And we’d fallen in love, languishing over stolen hours of passion and simply time spent together. Our affair had lasted only two months. Then my world had crumbled.

  I bit back another round of tears, refusing to let Sylvie study and record my despair. If only I hadn’t found the horrific photographs. Would it have made a difference? Of course, there was no way of being certain that my father had any responsibility in the horrific murders, but I knew in my heart.

  I had to face the fact that my father had found out about my love affair with Rodriguez and killed him in cold blood. The rest was far too disturbing to think about. The level my father had sunk to, the horrors he’d inflicted were intolerable. There was no one I could trust anymore. Even Miguel continued to harbor secrets, a man on a mission to destroy everything I’d known before. I was angry about being conflicted, as if I was supposed to choose between them.

  I’d been through myriad emotions in the few hours out in the glitz and glamor of South Beach. The few intimate moments spent in Miguel’s office had seemed almost normal, as if we were merely dating. Every time I shifted, I was reminded of the damn plug I’d been required to wear. I felt kinky and dirty, one bad girl searching for clothes that I had no desire to wear.

  And all the while, Miguel’s soldier had maintained a close and rather ominous presence. After finally purchasing a dress for the evening, I noticed Sylvie was studying me even more than she had. She stood with her arms behind her back, her feet planted a solid eighteen inches apart, constantly scanning every store we went into.

  What was she trying to prove, that she was as good as the males? Her clothes reflected her profession, the gun carefully secured in an ankle holster. Sylvie had made certain to share that very detail before we left in her personal car, one sleek black Charger. She even wore her insanely red hair in a tight bun and hadn’t taken off her dark sunglasses all day. What had surprised me was the very feminine dress she’d brought for me to wear, the vivid colors completely unlike the drab olive green she was wearing.

  I grabbed the bag with the two dresses I’d purchased, actually hoping that Miguel approved. Jesus. What was I already turning into? As I moved away from the checkout counter, I passed an oversized window, the view of the busy street easy to see through the crystal-clear glass. Something made me stop short, taking a second and more concentrated look. The man standing at the very edge of the curb seemed ordinary in appearance even though he was staring directly into the store. Almost instantly, my skin began to crawl.

  There were no overt signs of danger, no gun strapped to the man’s waist. He was simply a guy dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, perhaps waiting for one of the customers inside. Then why was I shaking? I found myself walking closer, staring back at him, attempting to memorize every detail.

  “What’s wrong?” Sylvie asked in a low voice, peering over my shoulder.

  “Nothing. I don’t know.”

  She inched in front of me and as soon as she locked onto the man, she pushed me away from the window altogether. “Listen to me. Stay in this store and away from the windows and doors. I will be back.” The look she gave me was intense, domi
nant in an entirely different manner than Miguel.

  I watched as she raced out of the store but by then, the man had all but disappeared into the midday crowd. I moved closer, peering out as she bolted by, pushing her way through the scores of people. I moved toward the center of the store like commanded, my breath skipping as I eyeballed everyone inside. Every female in the store was looking in my direction, trying to figure out why someone like me would have a bodyguard.

  After a full two minutes, the overwhelming need to find answers from my father crushed in on me. I would never have another opportunity to find a phone and contact him. I knew how to keep a low profile and when to hide if necessary.

  “Is there a phone I can use?” I asked both of the store clerks.

  “No public phones, sugar,” one of the girls said, giving me a heated glare.

  “It’s an emergency,” I retorted, darting another look over my shoulder.

  “There’s a café next door,” the other woman said, nodding toward the front. “They’ll probably allow you to use theirs.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  I backed away, grabbing the few other bags and debating. Just a few minutes and I’d know if what Miguel had found was true. I moved quickly, exiting and keeping close to the wall. The café was only steps away, the scent of spices filling my nostrils the second I walked in the front door.

  I continued to look over my shoulder as I rushed toward the counter. “Is there a phone I can use? It’s an emergency. I have cash.” At least Miguel hadn’t taken away my entire world. My father had made certain I always carried at least a few hundred dollars with me at all times.

  The woman behind the counter faced me, glancing up and down. “Sure. Long distance?”

  “Yeah. Like I said, I have money.”

  She gave me another look then shook her head. “It’s all right, honey. Looks like you could use a break.”

  I gave her a smile before scampering toward the landline phone, my hands shaking so badly I could barely dial the number. I was honestly surprised when my father answered the phone, his gruff voice sending both a chill down my back and butterflies into my stomach. “Daddy.”

  There was absolute silence.

  “Why are you calling me?” he asked, as if my call was an interruption.

  My heart ached even before I asked the question, but there was no time for anything else. “Did you make a deal with Miguel Garcia that I belonged to him?”

  There was another hesitation.

  “Did you?” I snapped.

  “Business is business, Valencia. You always knew that. He owns you outright.”

  Owns me. I was forced to blink away the tears, stunned by his admittance. “And Mother is okay with that?”

  “Your mother does anything I tell her to do. You’re aware of that. As long as the money continues to flow into the house, she is very happy.”

  Swallowing hard, I could feel my blood chilling. “You are an absolute monster.”

  “I assure you, Valencia, there are worse men that you could end up with. The good business this will create is invaluable.”

  “To whom, Father? Yourself?” I knew he wouldn’t answer. He didn’t have the balls.

  “I suggest you make the best of your situation. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a meeting to get to.”

  He simply ended the phone call. Miguel had been right all along. I’d never mattered. I resisted slamming and breaking the phone, very carefully placing it on the receiver. Numb wasn’t the word for what I was feeling. “Thank you,” I said absently as I walked toward the door. Who cared whether an assassin shot me dead? What did it matter?

  “What do you think you were doing?” Sylvie’s voice was laced with both concern and anger. She stood just outside the café door, her arms folded.

  “I had to talk to my father. Just leave me alone.”

  She ripped off her sunglasses, squinting from the bright sun. “Are you fucking out of your mind? Miguel is going to be pissed as hell. Come on. I’m taking you home.” She jerked me by the arm, pulling me down the sidewalk.

  “What about the weird guy?”

  “I don’t know. He disappeared.”

  Sighing, I had difficulty feeling my feet. “What does it matter anyway?”

  “What does it matter? Jesus, Ms. Rivera. Miguel actually gives a shit about you and you continue to combat him in every step.”

  “Yeah, well, have you ever been kidnapped before then told that it was because of a business arrangement gone bad? Then to find out that your father actually has no issues with it, perhaps was in on the planning of it?”

  Sylvie sucked in her breath but continued moving. “That doesn’t mean you can go off halfcocked. Then I’ll have to be the one to clean up the mess.”

  “I’d appreciate if you’d lay off the macho routine. You know, I might appear to be some fluffy princess who has been pampered her entire life, but I can hold my own against creeps and thugs. Now, you can take me back and dump me off because I know you have no desire to be hanging around with a girl like me.” Huffing, I managed to jerk out of her hold, even taking several steps ahead of her.

  The gorgeous and very surreal turquoise ocean was merely a few paces away, the rolling water and the scent of the sea drawing me in, a reminder that I was only a few hundred miles from home. Home. As if that had ever been real. I was sick to my stomach, colors swirling in my mind’s eye.

  “Look, I’m sorry, but Miguel asked me to protect you and that’s what I’m going to do,” Sylvie said as she flanked my side.

  “Or he’ll punish you, even kill you?”

  I could tell she was taken aback. “Miguel requires professionalism and loyalty. What I give him is respect.”

  Her words simmered in my mind. I remained quiet, trying to ratchet down my frustration. She certainly wasn’t to blame. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be taking this out on you.”

  “I know this must be difficult on you, but I do believe that Miguel cares about you.” Sylvie’s head never stopped moving as we worked out way down the sidewalk, no doubt headed for her Charger.

  “I’m not certain about anything any longer. Who could that man have been?”

  “Maybe nobody, just a tourist or a frustrated husband,” she said as we crossed a street, making a turn toward the parking garage.

  “But you don’t believe that, do you?”

  She shot me a look. “What I know is that there is someone hell bent on killing you and that’s just not going to happen on my watch.”

  We walked in silence, finally reaching the car where she half pushed me inside, roaring the engine to life.

  “You’re worried,” I said after watching her.

  “Hell, yeah. There’s some shit going down that no one can figure out. You can almost feel a war is about to break out. Haven’t seen blood in the streets in a long time.”

  “My father?”

  She eased the car to a stop just before leaving the garage. “You’re going to have to discuss that with Miguel.”

  “Of course. No one wants to tell me anything.” I studied the rolling waves as she drove, unable to get what my father had said out of my mind.

  “You like him,” Sylvie said almost casually as she leaned back in her chair, giving me a wry smile.

  “Who?”

  “Don’t play coy with me.” She half laughed.

  “How can I like a man I don’t know?”

  “Hmmm... Miguel is a complicated man.”

  “Sounds like you do know him very well,” I said, realizing that a hint of jealousy had crawled into my system.

  Sylvie’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, the sound of the leather as she twisted her hand a distinct reminder of the bondage from before. I shuddered at the thought. “I know enough about Miguel Garcia to realize that very few people will ever truly understand the man inside.” She slowly turned her head, taking a deep breath.

  “It sounds like you’ve been in love with him for years.”

&n
bsp; “Love? Not a chance,” she retorted.

  I lifted my eyebrows, believing her. “I’m no one to him, not really, Sylvie. The only reason I’m with him is revenge against my father. A deal made.”

  “It may have started out that way,” she said in passing as she scanned the area, always on the lookout. “Don’t worry. You’re not taking him from me if that’s what you’re worried about. The truth is I’ve never seen Miguel with a woman for longer than an evening out. Even then, the situation wasn’t romantic. He’s a loner.”

  “He tells me very little, has a Jekyll and Hyde personality.”

  “You need to ask him why.”

  “But you know. Don’t you?” I pushed.

  “Look, I respect Miguel for the man he is, fair and caring. I admire his tenacity and business savvy. I appreciate the time he takes with those who work for him. I value his friendship especially since there wasn’t another one of his soldiers who didn’t have serious reservations about the fact I was promoted to one of his Capos. I’m not in love with him, Valencia, but I do care about his welfare. I would die for him without question. Anyone who attempted to betray either him or his family would have to come through me. I will also not betray his friendship or his trust.”

  “I’m certain you’re a valuable asset. Did he save you from some horrible situation? Is that why you’re so loyal?”

  She chuckled. “I have my reasons.”

  “I don’t know if I can trust him even though every part of my body craves his touch.”

  “He’s probably the only man in his position that you can fully trust. That’s something you need to keep in mind.”

  There had to be more to the story. “Then help me understand him. Tell me why I can trust him when he’s keeping me prisoner.”

  “Have you fully understood what’s at stake here? Do you comprehend at all what would happen if anyone attempted to muscle in on the hold the Garcia family has on the South? There would be streams of blood in the street, families destroyed and the kind of violence that no one will be able to control. What the Garcia family has done from the moment his father took over for one disgusting pig of a human being was to provide decent jobs and wages for his employees. His father fought the various gangs in the streets, building an army as well as a reputation. The honor the family has brought to so many is tremendous.”