Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Anguish crushed my heart, but I couldn’t defy him. He was only being reasonable, responsible for our safety.
We wouldn’t be in Mexico City forever. I could deal with the temporary isolation.
“You’d be okay with me going to the bar with you and your friends?” I asked cautiously.
George usually didn’t want me around when he was establishing his career connections. Going out for drinks and forming friendships was an important part of advancement in his line of work. The camaraderie he shared with his fellow agents also kept us in a tight-knit community that added another layer of protection. We were outsiders here, and the nature of George’s work made us enemies of the cartels.
He nodded tightly. “I can keep an eye on you when we go out,” he said. “Besides, a couple of the other wives come out with us sometimes.”
“They do?” I asked breathlessly, hope budding in my chest.
I didn’t make friends easily, but female company would be nice. Especially if I was going to be confined to the apartment for most of every day.
He nodded again, that awful frown still tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Thank you,” I said fervently. “I’ll be safe as long as I’m with you.”
I knew that truth deep in my bones. George was my person. He was my everything, my entire world. He wouldn’t allow anyone to take me from him ever again. Besides, he couldn’t keep me safe if I made foolish, headstrong choices. I wouldn’t fight him on this anymore. I would quit my job and make the shabby little apartment into a home for us.
“Do as I say, and you’ll be safe,” he said. “I can’t protect you if you get reckless and go off on your own to take your pictures.”
“I won’t,” I agreed.
He hugged me again, and I leaned into his chest. He shushed me gently and rubbed his hand up and down my back in a soothing motion.
“We won’t be here forever, baby,” he reassured me. “Just a year or two until I get promoted.”
I nodded, hardening my resolve. I could stay mostly isolated for that period of time. To keep George safe, I would sacrifice anything.
Chapter 4
Massimo
“Ithought we were going to be friends, Massimo. I welcomed you into my home, but now you’ve killed two of my men.” Stefano Duarte cocked his head at me, his genial expression belied by the dangerous flash of white-hot anger over his black eyes. “I thought we were going to have a very profitable relationship.”
The back of my neck prickled with awareness of a threat, an ingrained response to mortal danger. Duarte only had two silent, burly guards stationed in his lavish study where he’d arranged this meeting, but we were in the heart of his criminal empire. Dozens of lethally armed killers were stationed throughout the high rise building that the drug lord owned. If we tried to fight our way out, we wouldn’t survive the attempt.
Enzo and Gian tensed at my back, the brothers bracing for a fight. They would defend me with their lives, even though I’d been the one to recklessly put us in this dangerous position.
Everything we’d ever wanted was within our grasp—money, power, security—and I might’ve fucked it all up. We would be lucky to get out of here alive after my slight to Duarte, the most notorious, mercurial drug lord in Mexico.
Gian would be better equipped to talk his way out of this than I was. He could wield his tongue as effectively as I handled my knives. That was how we’d survived this long.
But this was my mess. I wouldn’t allow my friends to die because of my actions. My decision to save the woman—Evelyn Day, George Crawford’s fiancée—had been impulsive, instinctual. I’d learned that she was innocent, and my own demons had overwhelmed my better judgment.
“Enzo and Gian had nothing to do with this,” I asserted, lifting my chin to meet Duarte’s sharp glare with defiance. “I killed your men. It was my call.”
Dark brows arched over the drug lord’s keen eyes, a promise of death lurking in the black pools. “Is there a reason you chose to insult me like this?” he drawled, outwardly cool and composed.
“Your men,” I spat the word with disdain, “were brutalizing an innocent woman. They kidnapped George Crawford’s fiancée. They beat her and were going to do far worse if I hadn’t stopped them.” I squared my shoulders. “That’s not how I do business in Naples.”
Duarte’s lips thinned. “You’re not in Naples,” he said coldly. “This is my territory. You are my guest.”
“She’s innocent,” I growled. “Crawford might be a piece of shit, but she didn’t deserve that. Your men were going to kill her after she served her purpose as bait.”
“And you care so much about an innocent woman being hurt?” he challenged coolly, expression unreadable.