“I’d love to meet a man with balls big enough to try, because the second that happens, he will no longer have any. Now I remember why mama didn’t like you. You’re a real fucking asshole,” I glacially retorted, keeping a cool demeanor.
I was positive by the look on his face he’d never been spoken to like this before. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he keeled over and had a stroke.
He was probably more shocked that I didn’t have a tongue of cultured etiquette. “Samuel, that was uncalled for,” my grandmother chastised.
“There you go defending her again.” His mouth twisted into an ugly sneer. The smell of something stronger than wine reached my nose. He was drunk.
“For the record, Mateo likes his women subservient. You’re nothing but a little girl trying to involve yourself in a game you will lose for all of us.”
He shoved away from the table, looking down at me like I was a piece of shit smeared into the carpet before leaving the room.
“Fucking dick,” I quietly seethed.
“Your uncle means no harm, diosa, but I know that hurt.”My grandmother sighed and softly chuckled a minute later.
“What’s funny?” I asked, side-eyeing her.
“You remind me of your mother––in spirit and in beauty. The parts that didn’t put up with anyone’s bullshit.” She smiled at me, showing off all the envious beauty that hid her true age. And she did look amazing for her age.
Her dark hair was twisted into a French chignon, the grays well beyond dyed. Her makeup was much more carefully applied than mine would ever be, and she carried herself like she was the POTUS.
“We weren’t born yesterday. We know something’s going on between you two,” she said after a few silent moments.
“Grams, we just met.”
“Are you still taking your birth control?”
“I’ve been taking them with my Prozac,” I muttered.
“Good. For a minute I was worried about you going through a mania, or getting worse.”
“I haven’t had any symptoms that would make you think that.”
“Oh, I just meant maybe we should start looking into centers, in case things do go downhill for you.” She smiled, a sweet insincere bitch of a smile.
Threatening me with something I worked very hard to control over the years was a low fucking blow. Stupid cunt was on the tip of my tongue, but this woman was supposed to be a grandmother, so I returned her smile.
“You’re right. I would hate to completely lose my shit and do something drastic to you or Uncle Samuel. You two seem to sleep through everything at night.”
She didn’t have a reason to smile anymore. I wasn’t bluffing, I would do it. If she got in my way of finding Eva, I would burn the whole fucking house down with her in it. Grandmother or not. I could dish out threats too. She didn’t know me well enough to antagonize me.
“You really are your mother’s child,” she said softly, picking up her paper again.
I fell into deep contemplation as I drove towards Mateo’s estate that evening.
I didn’t bother using the Cadillac’s high-tech navigation system to point me in the right direction. I knew exactly where I was going.
Every home I managed to catch a glimpse of was ridiculously large.
I imagined my aunt’s little bungalow fitting nicely within one of their garages and still having space for an ample backyard.
They sat marginally far apart, most on the cusp of a hill––hence Remmington Hill Estates. There was no need to worry about your perverted neighbor staring from their bedroom window straight into yours, as I’d had to do for years.
From the road, you could see the silhouette of whichever house you were passing but peering into one was damn near impossible unless you had a pair of binoculars.
If you thought normal people wanted their privacy and security you should see families that specialized in the illegal underworld.
And with that in mind, my thoughts centered again. The closer I got to my destination the tighter my grip grew on the steering wheel.
Not for the first time since getting dressed I wondered what the hell I was doing.
I’d repeatedly told myself this was a terrible idea. I had no idea what Mateo’s true intentions were. I was willingly going into this but I worried I wasn’t ruthless enough for it. I could be a petty psychotic bitch, but I also cried during ASPCA commercials. How immoral would I have to be for a kingpin to fall in love with me?
I rounded a slight bend and coasted towards a pair of large black iron gates sitting between two stone pillared guard shacks.
Slowing down, something beeped on the dash and they simultaneously swung inward, allowing me entry.
“What the hell?” I muttered, trying to figure out what had happened as I rolled forward. It was impossible not to notice the two men who watched closely as I drove past, large guns at the ready if I happened to be a threat.
Slowly inhaling a few breaths and then letting them all back out, I continued my trek up the winding tarmac.
Trees––an abundance of them––had been planted on either side to add an extra layer of privacy.
Finally reaching the circular drive at the top, I parked and took a second to bundle my nerves, unclenching my fingers from the steering wheel.
Peeking through the windshield, my jaw slackened as I took in the stunning Mediterranian style villa before my wide eyes.
The design was superb.
There were large picture windows and a beige stucco exterior. The Mediterranean theme was evident even in the immaculate landscaping.
If I thought my dad would be shitting himself before, he was probably doing figure eights trying to dig his way out of his grave right about now. I could imagine my mother doing backflips of excitement.
This was the last place on earth I should have been.
He definitely wouldn’t approve of me sitting in the driveway of a notorious kingpin.
With a sigh, I looked my reflection over in the mirror. My dark brown eyes stared back at me. I’d gone for a simple look–minimal on the make-up so it didn’t look as if I was trying too hard, and pinned my hair back in a simple half-up-up-half-down style.
“Now or never,” I told myself, looping the chain of my clutch across my shoulders before getting out of the car.
It was just as hot as it had been the previous day, if not hotter, but being up so high made the air seem cooler.
Seeing no one else was around, I began walking towards the front double-doors. Stepping through a stone archway, I raised a fist to knock. Before it could fully connect with the stained glass panel the right door swung inward, revealing an older man with dark blonde hair dressed in simple formal wear.
“Miss Rias,” he greeted politely, gesturing for me to come inside.
I stepped into the air-conditioned foyer and took a quick glance around. His home had distinct old money grandeur. The warm, dark-tones gave off a comforting vibe when I was expecting cold and sterile.
“Right this way, Miss Rias.” The man gave me a wide berth and beckoned for me to follow him. “Just call me Elena, please. When you say my name like that it makes me feel old.”
Garnering no response, I silently trailed behind him, taking note of the gun holstered on the back of his slacks. My heels click-clacked on the shiny wooden floor.
I looked around again, feeling as if I were being watched, but I didn’t see anything or anyone else. He led me down a hall and paused outside a pair of dark oval doors. “Please have a seat.”
After pointing to a set of upholstered chairs, he disappeared into the room beyond, opening one door just wide enough for him to squeeze through. I got a brief eyeful of four men in dark suits before it was closed again.
Rolling my neck to the ceiling to loosen some of the knotted tension, I went to sit. A man’s shrill cry of pain had me standing right back up. Before I could take a single step away from whatever was going on in the next room, both doors swung open and the man in questio
n was shoved into the hall.
He landed on his knees in a state of disorientation. His suit was wrinkled, one cufflink torn. I stared at his hand cupping a bleeding nose; the bones were at an unatural angle beneath the skin.
“Get him out of my house.”
Mateo calmly demanded, looking down at the guy with a neutral expression on his face.
Two of the men I’d just seen each grabbed an arm and began dragging the man down the hall.
The third gave Mateo a tight-lipped smile, muttered something under his breath, and rushed after them, fear leaking from his pores.
I continued staring even when they vanished from sight.
“Elena.” Mateo called my name softly, summoning my attention.
“Is this…how you always greet your guests?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.
“I didn’t expect you to be on time. I apologize.”
I found that highly inconceivable considering who he was but the bright smile he aimed my way rapidly diminished my discomfort.
Not in a suit, but a simple black button-down with the sleeves partially rolled back and a pair of slacks, he looked even better than he had the last time I saw him. Though it was impossible for me not to imagine what was underneath.
I bit back the urge to ask what I had just witnessed. It was none of my business, and I knew better than to speak on it. That was one of the saving graces about being partially raised around such things. I knew how to keep my mouth shut. My mother and father may have showered me with all the love and affection a girl could hope for, but neither of them was anything close to a saint.
I remembered many scenes just like this one occurring outside my father’s office when he thought Eva and I were sleeping, so as far as I was concerned, I saw nothing.
Mateo’s eyes roamed over me from head to toe, slowly taking me in. I’d chosen to skip wearing the revealing blue dress I’d initially picked out, going with a simple black one instead with lace quarter sleeves, a silk bodice, and a slightly flared skirt, paired with red bottoms.
It meant I wouldn’t have to worry about my ass cheeks or the ugly jagged scar on my left thigh making an appearance.
The mark was the result of a locker room incident my senior year of high school, coupled with the two on my wrists they served as a permanent reminder of a dark era I went through. He had yet to ask me about them, and I’d rather save that conversation for never.
“Bonita,” Mateo murmured as he finished making his appraisal. His eyes found their way back to mine. “Beautiful,” he translated for me.
“Thanks, you look…nice too,” I finished lamely, offering him a small smile.
“Your house is gorgeous.”
“I’m glad you think so, I plan for you to be here much more often. I’ll have to give you a tour. Are you ready?” he asked, passing off a white cloth to the man who let me in the house.
“As ready as you are,” I answered, following the movement with my eyes, diverting my gaze when I saw the blood he’d he’d just wiped from his knuckles that clearly wasn’t his.
“Good.” He flashed me another grin, showing a set of teeth that belonged in Colgate commercials. “Come with me.”
Those three words could have easily been misconstrued as a double entendre. Almost every word out of his mouth sounded like it was meant for seduction and sex.
My body certainly heard one thing, while my brain, heard another. Fortunately for me I’d opted for a strapless bra, because my taut nipples had a mind of their own.
I refused to acknowledge the effect he had on me, but judging by the look in his eyes, he already knew. And why wouldn’t he? He was the total package. He had an unapologetic swagger and envious confidence. A man like Mateo was well aware of his effect on the opposite sex.
Instead of taking the lead like I assumed he would, he fell into step beside me and interlaced our hands, guiding me back down the hall.
The intoxicating scent of his cologne filled my lungs.
When he stopped at a singular door I anticipated that it would lead outdoors, and it did, sort––of.
“Why do we need to go in there?”
My common sense wouldn’t allow me to blindly follow him into a garage. I mentally patted myself on the back for keeping my head about me, even if it was a task all in itself.
“Well, this is generally where people park their vehicles.” He spoke slowly, turning so he was facing me.
“Where are we going?”
“Elena.” He rolled my name off his tongue like it was a rare delicacy. He pulled me closer. “I want to take you to dinner. I want more out of this than a great fuck in a shitty bathroom.
“There are obviously certain steps that need to be taken to ensure that happens.
And I know you don’t have many friends around here so I thought it would do you some good to get out of the house. I’m not going to hurt you. I can’t believe I still need to tell you that.”
His words sounded honest, like he and his eyes bled sincerity, but when he said he wasn’t going to hurt me, it almost sounded like he’d left a loud resounding “yet”, hanging between us.
Damn, he was good. I slipped my hands from his and crossed my arms over my chest. He was either an incredible actor worthy of a Golden Globe or he was truly genuine with his words.
I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and gnawed on the flesh, debating if I had lady balls big enough to actually attempt taking a step forward with the Adonis in front of me. A man I knew for a fact could end my life in the blink of an eye.
One day, I’d look back on this moment and wonder why that crucial detail didn’t bother me as much as it should have.
Presently, this was about more than just him hurting me. There were a colossal number of reasons not to go with him and they started forming the moment his eyes locked with mine outside his office.
Those reasons said fuck logic altogether.
My masochistic nature begged me to learn everything there was to know about him. Another part of me wanted to bask in the power he naturally exhumed with his very presence.
I’d never been around anyone like him before. He was an enigma that had managed to capture my full attention.
This was my main issue with being around him for any given amount of time. I would fixate and hook myself on something toxic without a care for my health.
He ticked and exceeded every black box I had.
This would be the addiction that sent me over the edge. I could feel it churning in my gut and in the way my heart beat like a drum, eager with anticipation for me to get closer to him.
All these things were wrong in all aspects of wrongness and they were just the precipice of my I’m fucked mental checklist.
I was here now though, and this was a make it or break it moment. I couldn’t go back and forth with him like I could myself. So, I took a small breath, gave him a small smile, and sealed my fate.
With one of his hands once more wrapped around mine, he led me through the door.
We bypassed a large SUV, some kind of luxury sedan, and then stopped by the passenger door of the Mustang, Mateo pulled it open so I could get in. I tucked my dress beneath my thighs and slid inside, settling back against the warm, white leather seat.
He climbed in, started it right up, and began maneuvering it out of his garage. As soon as he was heading towards the peak of the driveway, passing my little car in the process, my stomach dipped.
I felt like I’d just climbed abroad a dangerous roller coaster and the only one aware of all the twists and turns was the ride conductor himself.
I prayed I hadn’t made a grave mistake.
Chapter Nine
The further we got from Remmington Hill the better I began to feel.
I focused on simply enjoying the smooth ride inside a car I only fantasized about in pictorials.
“I have to admit I was surprised when I learned you’re a car connoisseur.”
“I can’t decide if it’s sweet or creepy
that you took the time to find that out,” I murmured, removing my Bulgari sunglasses from my clutch and sliding them into place.
They made me feel like I had some layer of protection against him.
“Being transparent, I wasn’t looking for the information specifically. I always do vigorous background checks on women I’m in a relationship with, and it was presented to me.”
“Relationship? So we’re officially a couple all of a sudden?” I semi-turned in my seat and quirked a brow at him. “I never said I wanted to be your girlfriend.”
“No?” He looked over, giving me his full attention. “What are you to me then?” he asked steadily accelerating. The Mustang’s engine revved as the speedometer jumped to play catch up.
“Mateo!” I grabbed for the standard oh-shit handle but the damn car didn’t have one, leaving me to clutch the seatbelt.
The sound of the engine was like gathering thunder, growing louder as the Mustang continued to accelerate.
He weaved in and out of cars so rapidly the contents of my bladder were about to take a leave of absence without my consent.
“I didn’t catch your answer,” he casually stated.
“I’m going to be dead if you don’t learn how to drive!” I yelled as he very narrowly missed rear-ending a minivan with stick figures on the back window. The engine clicked as he merged into the right lane before beginning to slow down. My shoulder collided with the passenger door as my body slid on the seat.
He laughed under his breath.
“It’s not funny!” I snapped, before laughing a little in spite of myself. I placed a hand over my racing heart, two minutes away from stopping altogether.
“Calm down, amada, I control the machine the machine doesn’t control me. Plus, that was really your fault.” His shoulder slightly lifted in a shrug.
“How the hell was that my fault!?”
“Language.” He shot me a look. “I felt so distraught when you said weren’t mine I momentarily lost control of my emotions and in return…the loss of this vehicle.
“I’m glad you came to your senses at the last minute and let me know it was your poor attempt at humor,” he said amicably. “I wouldn’t advise you do it, again. I’d hate to give you whiplash.”
Queen of Diamonds: A Dark Erotic Romance (Old Money Roulette Book 1) Page 6