Pretty Hostage

by Julia Sykes

  “Cut the shit, Duarte,” Adrián commanded. “This isn’t a fucking dinner party.”

  Duarte’s smile curved with malice. “I promise you I’m approaching this situation with deadly seriousness. But you can’t blame me for feeling a little celebratory.”

  Adrián fixed him with a frigid stare. “After tonight, the debt between us is paid. Our relationship goes back to how it was before.”

  “Adrián, we’ve always been good friends, and we always will be,” Duarte promised. “I look forward to this new era in our working relationship.”

  Duarte was about to seize control of all of Mexico, eliminating his rival Ronaldo so that his cartel was the sole organization trafficking our cocaine into the States. He was pulsing with excitable energy, like he’d just won the goddamn lottery.

  Before I could throttle him for daring to find joy in Sofia’s abduction, my phone buzzed in my pocket, startling me.

  No one should be contacting me right now. Unless…

  My phone was in my hand before I could fully process the decision to answer.

  “Sofia,” I rasped, hardly daring to accept that her contact details had indeed flashed on my screen.

  “This is Carmen Ronaldo,” a female voice responded. “Am I speaking with Mateo Ignazio?”

  “I want to talk to Sofia,” I demanded.

  Adrián glared at me, mouthing: hang up the phone.

  I ignored him, and he knew better than to try to physically wrest the phone away from me.

  “Listen, I made a mistake, but I want to help,” Carmen said quickly. “Caesar lied to me. I thought I was saving Sofia from you. But now I… You have to come get her. I’ll help you do it.”

  “Put it on speaker,” Adrián hissed.

  I managed the presence of mind to comply. This conversation was taking a turn my addled brain couldn’t follow, and I needed his clear head to sort out our next move.

  “Why would you help me?” I asked, holding the phone in front of my chest, so Adrián and Duarte would be able to hear her response.

  “Because I didn’t know Sofia hadn’t agreed to marry my brother.” Carmen’s voice sounded through the silent woods.

  I caught another flash of Duarte’s white teeth as he recognized the caller’s identity. Suddenly, I was grateful for his presence, too. If he could help me think through this, I could ensure Sofia’s safety in the coming violence.

  “I’m willing to help you get her out, but it can’t be traced back to me,” Carmen continued. “And I want your boss’ word that I am acknowledged as the head of the Ronaldo Cartel in exchange for this favor. If you come to my estate, I’ll let you inside. You, and no more than four others. Just enough to make it look like a surprise extraction and get Sofia out safely.”

  “Why would I trust you?” I ground out. “You could be inviting me into a trap. Why shouldn’t I just destroy your entire organization to get Sofia back?”

  “Because Pedro will use her against you if he realizes he’s under siege,” she countered. “He’s…not being gentle with her.”

  A beastly roar ripped through the night, an animal sound of rage and pain. Adrián dared to grab my shoulders and shake me hard enough that I focused on his steady, pale green stare.

  “You have my word,” Adrián told her, agreeing to Carmen’s terms and letting her know he was listening in. “You control the Ronaldo Cartel now, Carmen. Tell us how we can access your estate.”

  It took twelve agonizing minutes to get everything into position. If Carmen had been alarmed to learn that we were waiting just outside her gates to launch an assault by the time she called me, she hid her surprise from her tone.

  Duarte seemed more excited than ever, his wide grin practically maniacal and plastered as a permanent fixture on his face. He’d come to some sort of arrangement with Adrián while we’d moved in on the estate, but I’d been too consumed by fear for Sofia to focus on what they were saying.

  He’s not being gentle with her.

  Carmen’s sickening admission played through my mind on a maddening loop, making my stomach churn. I tasted fresh blood in my mouth where I’d caught my cheek while gnashing my teeth.

  Adrián risked touching me again, gripping my upper arm hard enough to harness my attention.

  “When we get inside, Carmen will tell us how to get to Sofia. You go straight for her. I’ll have your back, and so will the rest of the team.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the two most dangerous killers in his employ, who rounded out our extraction team. “Duarte will deal with Carmen. After Sofia is safe with you, we burn this place to the ground. No one gets out alive,” he swore, his panther’s eyes glinting through the darkness. “Not after challenging me.”

  Caesar’s brazen challenge for control of Adrián’s territory wouldn’t go unpunished. An example would be made tonight.

  Right on time, a light flashed from atop the defensive wall that surrounded Ronaldo’s estate. Our group moved through the night, swift and silent. As promised, Carmen had disabled the motion-sensor floodlights to enable our approach.

  It seemed she’d been completely honest in her intentions. She was willing to betray her brother in exchange for control of the cartel.

  She would live to regret that decision.

  Just as we reached a reinforced steel door set into the defensive wall, it swung inward to admit us.

  Carmen Ronaldo was a slender, lone silhouette in the threshold. I heard her sharp gasp the instant she saw my blood-streaked body barreling toward her. She made the mistake of changing her mind, trying to close the door to keep me out.

  I slammed my weight against the metal, knocking her back with the force of my entry.

  She stumbled and fell onto the grass lawn, and our team breached the defensive wall.

  Before she could get her bearings or open her mouth to scream, Duarte was on top of her, capturing her wrists in one hand and pinning them into the dirt above her head. He pressed his palm over her ruby-painted lips, fully subjugating her.

  Her striking gray eyes flew wide, and she struggled wildly beneath him. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, inhaling her scent like a lover.

  “Quiet now, kitten,” he purred. “You promised to help my friend Mateo, remember? Tell him where he can find Sofia, and this will all be over soon. I will leave your home, and you won’t be harmed tonight.”

  “I gave you my word,” Adrián reminded her, throwing out his arm in front of my chest to hold me back.

  I hadn’t realized I was advancing on Carmen, impatient to get the information I needed so I could rescue Sofia.

  Carmen managed a small, shaky nod. Duarte hummed his approval at her capitulation, dropping a mocking kiss on the tip of her nose.

  Her cheeks flushed with rage, but she didn’t lash out when he released her and got to his feet. He offered a hand to help her up, but she scowled at him and scrambled upright without his assistance.

  She turned sharply, as though exposing her back to Duarte went against all her survival instincts.

  “This way,” she urged, leading us toward the sprawling mansion, keeping to the shadows cast by the wall that surrounded the property.

  We moved far too slowly and quietly, the pace setting my teeth on edge. Adrián’s death grip on my upper arm was the only thing tethering me to sanity, a bruising reminder that caution was necessary to ensure Sofia’s safe extraction. If it weren’t for my friend’s punishing, supportive presence at my side, I would have gone out of my mind with feral rage hours ago.

  Carmen unlocked a side door to the mansion, admitting us into her home. As we moved through the darkened rooms of the house that weren’t currently in use, my pulse pounded through my brain, the hammering of my heart slamming through the silence around us.

  When we reached the bottom of a stairwell, Carmen paused, keeping us hidden in the shadows.

  “Security is lax this deep into the compound, so you should be able to navigate from here without me,” she informed us in an undertone.
“The extra manpower we do have posted now is only because of the heightened risks my brother took by allying himself with Caesar.”

  “And where is Caesar?” Adrián asked, his predator’s eyes shining.

  “Fighting for his life,” she replied. “Pedro stabbed him and only offered medical assistance if Sofia agreed to marry him. Caesar is in our surgeon’s care now. He’s in the east wing of the house.”

  “If he lives through the night, he will regret it,” Adrián vowed.

  “Pedro’s bedroom is on the third floor.” Carmen signed her brother’s death warrant. “There will be two guards in the hall. Others will come running if they hear a disturbance.”

  “Then it’s a good thing they’ll be distracted by an external assault,” Adrián drawled. He offered Carmen a sardonic nod. “Enjoy being Queen of the Ashes.”

  “What?” she gasped as Duarte snatched his prize, clapping his hand over her mouth and pulling her close to murmur a dark secret in her ear.

  “Let’s go.” Adrián finally released my arm, giving me permission to move freely.

  Whatever restraint he’d helped me retain snapped, and I forgot about Carmen and Duarte. Guided by raw, possessive instinct, I ascended the stairs three at a time, closing the distance between me and Sofia.

  The two guards in the hall didn’t have time to raise their weapons before I flung them out of my way. If the blunt force of my fists didn’t kill them, Adrián’s knife would. Shots would start firing soon, but hopefully not before I got to Sofia.

  I didn’t intend to give Ronaldo a warning that I was coming for him. I wouldn’t let him put her body between us in an attempt to save himself.

  Her harsh sob obliterated my tenuous connection to rational human thought, possessive rage burning through my veins to sear away any civility I possessed. I slammed my shoulder into the door that separated me from her, and the wood splintered around the hinges.

  I continued with my forward momentum, barreling straight into my enemy, the man who dared to touch what was mine.

  I ripped Ronaldo away from her, lifting him off the bed and tackling him to the floor. He attempted to struggle beneath me, so I shattered his jaw with one brutal punch. His head snapped to the side, and blood sprayed from his lips, leaving dark drops on the polished wooden floorboards.

  Sofia’s soft shriek clawed for my attention. I wrapped my hand around Ronaldo’s neck to keep him down, so I could turn away from him long enough to check on her safety.

  Her emerald eyes were wide, her lush lips parted. Tears glistened on her cheeks, and her glossy curls were broken and tangled.

  Her harrowed appearance would have been enough to stoke my ire, but my fury consumed me when I noted her shredded dress pooled around her willowy body, leaving her exposed in her sheer, white lace lingerie. She appeared more fragile than ever, shivering on the ivory sheets.

  The knife Ronaldo had used to cut her clothes from her body lay on the mattress beside her.

  A savage roar echoed through the room, but it ended abruptly in response to her soft whimper.

  My attention fixed on her lovely, emerald eyes again. They were dark with horror, my sweet Sofia’s mind overwhelmed by the violence she’d been subjected to.

  Despite my incendiary fury, a sense of calm purpose settled over me. Protecting Sofia was the only thing in my world that mattered.

  That meant shielding her from more bloody nightmares.

  “Close your eyes, florecita,” I commanded gently. “I’ll make this quick.”

  My good girl did as she was told, trusting me to take care of her.

  When I was certain she wouldn’t witness what I planned to do to Ronaldo, I lifted my weight off him just long enough to grab the knife he’d used to cut away her clothes.

  He moaned, but whatever protest or pleading he might have offered was garbled by his ruined jaw.

  I wouldn’t allow him to make any more sounds of distress that might disturb my sweet Sofia.

  I slammed the blunt handle of the blade into the center of his throat, crushing the soft tissue that allowed him to speak and breathe. His gray eyes rolled with terror, and he reached between us to try to wrest the knife away from me. I gave him a few seconds to try, watching his panic cause his pupils to dilate as his weaker body gave way to my strength.

  I slowly lowered the wicked tip of the blade to his solar plexus, allowing him to continue to push against me frantically. He jerked beneath me when the knife sank into his flesh, but I’d silenced him effectively, and the sound of his agony wouldn’t haunt Sofia after we left this place.

  Once the hilt of the blade kissed his torn flesh, I jerked the knife in a downward arc, shifting off him to allow his guts to spill onto the floor and not on me.

  I didn’t bother to wait to watch the light leave his eyes. He hadn’t suffered nearly enough, but he was no longer a threat to Sofia.

  I dropped the knife, pushed to my feet, and went to her. She lay curled up on her side, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands clapped tightly over her ears.

  I reached for her, but I stopped short when I noted the crimson liquid glistening on my fists.

  Fuck.

  Moving quickly, I wiped my hands on the white sheets. The fresh blood smeared onto the expensive cotton, but the gore that had caked on earlier during my rampage through her father’s house clung stubbornly to my skin.

  I frowned down at my blood-soaked clothes. I didn’t want her to see me like this.

  The first gunshots rang out, automatic weapons peppering the night with sharp reports. Sofia cringed, her delicate body shaking violently.

  I didn’t want her to see any of this.

  Coming to a decision, I ripped at the white sheet, tearing off a strip of soft cotton. I pressed it against her eyes, and she jolted. I didn’t flinch from my plan, wrapping the makeshift blindfold firmly around her head and urging her to drop her hands from her ears so I could tie it in place.

  “Good girl,” I approved when she didn’t fight me. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

  I pressed a kiss against her tear-stained cheek, leaving a streak of blood behind. Irritated by the sight, I gently wiped it away, resolving to wash every inch of her as soon as I got her home.

  I bundled her up in the rest of the ruined sheet, hiding her body that Ronaldo had so cruelly exposed.

  Despite the horrors she’d faced tonight, Sofia tucked herself close to me. Her dainty fingers clutched at my bloody t-shirt, and I was relieved that I’d blindfolded her. I doubted she’d be clinging on so tight if she could see what she was holding onto.

  As violence erupted around the perimeter, I rushed Sofia out of the mansion. This entire estate would be ashes by morning, but I intended to have her back home and in our bed before then.

  Chapter 25

  Mateo

  Sofia had fallen asleep in my arms an hour ago, but I hadn’t removed the blindfold. I didn’t want to risk her waking up and seeing the blood that painted my body.

  Some of it was smeared on her luminous skin, and the white sheet I’d wrapped her in had soaked up the crimson stains on my shirt where I’d held her against my chest.

  I frowned at the sight. I didn’t like it one bit, and I definitely didn’t want to trouble her with the memory of it forever.

  The SUV that Adrián had ordered to pick us up at the airport slowed to a stop in front of my house. Before I could shift Sofia to maneuver her out of the car, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

  I fished it out to find a text from Adrián.

  Caesar will survive. I’ve decided to let him live in the humiliation of exile. You’re welcome.

  I closed my eyes against a surge of emotion. A swell of rage told me I wanted Caesar dead even more fiercely than Adrián did.

  But relief was stronger. Sofia would find it difficult if her father had been killed tonight. Even if the piece of shit was responsible for her trauma, she would struggle with his death.

  She had complicated feelings surrounding
her father, and she deserved as much time as she needed to sort through them all. If he died now, she might grieve him forever and never find any peace.

  Thank you. I owe you one, boss. I texted my reply.

  You owe me several. Remind me not to pay you for a few years.

  I smiled and slipped my phone back into my pocket. Adrián didn’t mean that. The vicious drug lord was a cold-hearted bastard, but he’d proven the depth of his loyalty to me tonight.

  Retaliation against Caesar and Ronaldo had been inevitable, once Caesar had chosen to take Sofia and openly move against Adrián.

  But my friend could have arranged a dozen different countermoves that didn’t involve him personally aiding in an assault on enemy territory.

  His decision to spare Caesar so that I could more easily comfort Sofia was such a kind gesture that it almost humanized my sadistic boss.

  Almost.

  I’d also witnessed him having a lot of bloody fun at Ronaldo’s estate. Another nightmare scene I was glad I’d hidden from Sofia.

  She stirred in my arms as I shifted her, so I could get us both out of the SUV and into the house.

  “We’re home, dulzura,” I murmured, shutting the front door behind us.

  She reached up to remove the blindfold.

  “No.”

  She responded instantly to my stern tone, her hand dropping to my chest instead.

  I dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Good girl. I want to get us both cleaned up before we take that off.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, turning her cheek into my bloodstained shirt. “Mateo?” she asked, hesitant. “Is Daddy… Is he safe?”

  My arms stiffened around her, my anger at the mention of her father reflexive. I took a breath and forced myself to relax. She didn’t need my anger right now.

  “Caesar survived,” I informed her. “Adrián is going to allow him to live in exile.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means he won’t be in LA. He is no longer part of our organization, or any other like it. Where he ends up is his choice, as long as Adrián approves. He and your mother will be fine.”