Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Miguel. Tormented. Lethal. Dead inside.
There is only one reason Miguel became the bodyguard of a cartel boss’s son. So that one day he can take revenge and put a bullet between his father’s eyes. To do that, he needs to keep his secrets close and play a double game with the outrageous Nero Moreno.
And there has never been a more infuriating demon of a man than Nero. From his filed teeth and green hair to the gaudy gold necklaces and a diamond-studded AK-47, he is narco excess personified and everything Miguel despises.
The fact that Nero hits on Miguel every chance he gets is just another burden, because Miguel decided long ago that there is no room for love in his black heart.
Nero. Slutty. Deadly. Lives to spite the world.
No one refuses Nero Moreno. When he sets his sights on a man, sooner or later, his mark surrenders. With the endless buffet of flesh available to him, he shouldn’t care about rejection, but every time his insanely hot bodyguard gives him the cold shoulder, Nero is more set on seduction.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Miguel
The large bottle of Dom Perignon exploded, splashing forty thousand dollars’ worth of champagne all over the patio. Several more stood around and on top of a stuffed albino caiman with precious stones for eyes, ready to be wasted. In other words, yet another Tuesday in Miguel’s line of work. At least he hadn’t been roped into participating in the ‘fun’ this time because he could barely stand this pointless challenge when people were going hungry in this very town.
On the upside, destroying fancy booze didn’t even come close to the most outrageous things he’d seen since becoming Nero Moreno’s bodyguard three months ago. Those included testing machetes on an unlucky traitor, Nero forcing several people to let him tattoo them during his birthday bash, and a gay orgy in the pool with most of the participants blindfolded.
Miguel considered himself fortunate that Nero spent most of his time partying or lazing around, and left the gritty part of the cartel operations to his men. Despite having the personality of a rabid hyena on coke, he only let disrespect fly if it entertained him. When it did not, his baseball bat did the talking.
One didn’t want to be on this bastard’s bad side, no matter how widely he smiled, flashing his sparkly grill at people. Like his father, Nero was predictable as the caimans marking their skin—they were cold-blooded and loved ripping people into shreds. At least unlike Raul ‘The Cannibal’ Moreno, Nero didn’t eat people. The gossip of the big boss boiling his enemies alive for some kind of fucked-up human broth still made Miguel’s skin crawl.
Miguel could only hope to hide his true intentions for as long as necessary and never end up on Raul’s plate.
The fountain, which currently served as his bench offered respite from the sharp sunlight, and Miguel dipped his finger in the whispering water to cool down as he watched his employer twist in something akin to a triumphant dance. He could hardly believe that this stain on humanity was the heir to the largest and most ruthless cartel in South America. But while Nero was many unsavory things, he took pride in his legacy and showed it off.
Caimans, the emblem of his father’s organization, swarmed over his skin, locked in a fight to the death. The largest of the beasts wrapped around Nero’s body, from his chest to the knee with scarifications making up its scales. And after knowing the bastard for three years, on and off, Miguel had the design imprinted under his eyelids, because Nero had no qualms about nakedness.
For now at least, he was wearing a pair of sweatpants—no doubt some expensive brand Miguel had never heard of—with a gold leopard print on a white background and two stripes going along the sides in the same fire truck-red as his short-cropped hair.
Sometimes, Miguel wondered whether the bright outfits were meant to repel the Colombian sun or contrast with the dark, warm hue of Nero’s skin. Or if they served as a warning sign to predators, suggesting that Nero was dangerous and toxic.
He looked away when Aaron, the handsome man Nero was entertaining, placed his tanned hand on the gangster’s round backside and squeezed it hard enough to wrinkle the pale fabric covering flesh.
Nothing was sacred anymore. Nero Moreno thought himself untouchable, and he would remain so for as long as it was in Miguel’s interests to keep him alive. Three months into the job, and no rival cartel member, jilted lover, homophobe, or jealous wife had shot Nero dead, so Miguel was doing something right.
Nero roared in triumph when another precious bottle shattered, pouring golden booze all over the dead animal’s scales. He raised his Swarovski crystal-studded gun and leaned his head back, letting Aaron kiss him. Miguel averted his eyes, unwilling to imagine how it would feel to kiss a man whose bottom teeth had been filed down until they resembled a shark’s.
The contemporary villa with massive glass windows was marginally less offensive to look at. Huge and filled with lots of empty space, it was the embodiment of modern excess, but the garden at the back, with its lush greenery and whispering fountain brought Miguel much-needed solace.
Nero roared when Aaron missed the massive bottle resting on the ex-animal underneath it. “That’s how you aim in the bedroom too? Starting to have doubts about your performance later.”
Miguel’s blood froze when Aaron scowled and shoved Nero. One move, and his gun was out, pointing at Aaron’s head, but Nero started laughing, his green reptilian eyes fixing on Miguel.
“Good boy! Someone deserves a treat for having his master’s back,” he said and smacked his lips, as if Miguel really was a dog.
Nero’s gaze then moved to Aaron’s stiff form, and he grabbed the bastard’s smooth-shaven jaw. His upper body, toned from daily weightlifting, tensed and the unfortunate fucker winced at the power behind Nero’s grip. “Better be careful. Once you piss off a guard dog, you could lose a limb to his teeth.”