Now that they’ve left the crowd behind and entered the hallway, they’ve disappeared from sight. Both Santos and I pick up the pace, and as soon as the crowd is no longer an issue, we stride down the hall. The exit door has just closed, and we quickly bolt through it and step outside.
Guns are suddenly drawn.
Callum stands in front of Herrera’s men with his gun pointed at them, and they both have their guns out as well—only they’re also trying to hold up a barely conscious woman.
Santos and I have our guns drawn as we surround Herrera’s men. They’re outnumbered. I’m sure there’s a few more around somewhere, but they aren’t foolish enough to risk themselves over what’s obviously a failed kidnapping attempt.
Sergio pulls up in the SUV, and I pocket my gun as my men keep theirs trained on Herrera’s. Both of the men’s expressions are cold, and they know this is where it ends for them.
The one on the left, his eye is twitching, and I spy his hand tightening on the gun. He’s either considering shooting me or taking out Catalina. I give him a warning look. “Think you’re faster than the bullet aimed at the back of your head?” I ask ominously.
He says nothing and just looks at me with callous eyes.
Catalina, in that moment, manages to lift her head, and her glazed eyes try to focus on me. “Nikolas…” she mumbles.
I reach for her, and the men reluctantly release her. She promptly falls face first towards me, and I quickly catch her as her soft curves come into contact with my body.
“Walk,” Santos orders to the men, motioning them towards the second vehicle that had pulled up—men of mine that were on standby.
Now that the threat has been dealt with, I swing Catalina up into my arms and stride to the SUV. Sergio is there in an instant opening the back door for me. It’s awkward climbing into the back, and I situate Catalina in the seat beside me. Callum climbs into the passenger seat, and a second later, we’re driving away from the club.
In the dim light, I try to prop Catalina up but she keeps slumping over. I check her pulse, which is thankfully steady. “Gatita,” I say curtly, trying to get her to open her eyes by using the nickname I know she hates.
Nothing.
She’s out cold.
Fury rises as my eyes slide over her vulnerable body while she rests against me. Anyone could be doing anything to her right now, and she wouldn’t even know it.
I tell myself that I don’t care about her personally, and that I’m angry because she’s the key to Herrera. Without her, I can’t eliminate him for good. She was foolish tonight.
Curious, I hold the back of her head and tilt her face up to mine, inhaling deeply near her lips. She doesn’t smell like alcohol, so she was drugged. I also note that I’m not smelling the overpowering scent of perfume that one would expect from being so close to a woman. She smells natural. It’s a scent that I can’t quite put my finger on, but it’s a scent I find attractive.
Fuck.
I pull away and glare at her.
Ten
Catalina
I wake feeling groggy. It’s not like I typically jump out of bed upon waking, but this fuzzy feeling in my head isn’t normal.
For a while, I simply lie there until my eyes slide to the alarm clock that I have propped on the corner of the bed mattress. It’s nearly noon. The shock seems to chase away some of the fuzziness as my eyes widen. I never sleep this late.
I sit up and groan as my head throbs.
Did I drink last night?
Oh, shit.
I sluggishly sink back onto the mattress and close my eyes, releasing another unhappy groan. The scene at the bar when Tomàs was escorted from the building flashes in my mind. That’s totally going to come back to bite me in the ass, I’m certain of it.
It’s not like I’d meant to stir up drama, but it felt good being out, and Bridget and her boyfriend were so nice. Then at one point, I became separated from them, and that’s when the night kind of gets fuzzy. I recall going to the bar and buying a soda. When I was heading back to Bridget, someone had bumped into me. I’d felt a burning sensation in my shoulder and then…nothing.
My heart begins to pound frantically as I abruptly sit up and look around. I’m in my apartment, but I’m not sure how I got here. When I glance down at myself, I find that I’m still wearing the white tee and my jeans. My shoes are gone, but those are the only things that have been removed.
Tomàs.
He must have stopped whomever had drugged me. Humiliation floods my veins as I lie back down, still not feeling well enough to move around. I’m never going to hear the end of this from Nikolas. I had honestly thought that I’d be safe at the bar. I mean, what in the world could happen in a bar full of people? Obviously a lot, and I was naive. Tomàs had warned me, but I hadn’t believed him.
I mentally curse myself for making such an error in judgement. I’ve thoroughly thought out every move I’ve made so that Nikolas doesn’t have a reason to push the boundaries of our agreement. Last night, my loneliness made me thoughtless.
A shiver runs through my body as I rub my aching temples. Had Tomàs not been waiting outside last night, I’d be on my way back to my father and Miguel. If they ever manage to get their hands on me, my life will be over.
I owe Tomàs an apology.
A curt knock sounds on the outer apartment door, startling me.
There’s no way I can handle Tomàs right now. I haven’t shaken off the drug entirely, and I need a shower and time to collect my thoughts. The coming conversation needs to wait until I’m thoroughly prepared for it, because it’s going to be a nasty one.
I spy my cell phone next to the alarm clock, and I reach for it and quickly send off a text to Tomàs. I know we need to talk but I’m not out of bed yet. Can we talk in an hour or so? I press send and sigh. Is there any way to just fast forward this day so it can be over? Better yet, can I rewind yesterday evening?
Instead of receiving a response through text messaging, I hear the apartment door open and then firmly close. I stiffen and sit upright. What the hell? I had that locked, and now this has become an invasion of my privacy.
Calm footsteps make their way down the hall, and I’m glaring when Nikolas appears in the doorway.
My eyes widen.
He pauses just inside my room, anger etched in the hard line of his strong jaw. “You almost fucked up everything last night,” he says calmly, but his tone is filled with ice. “If those men had left with you, you’d be at the mercy of your father and the fiancé you fear more than death. If I didn’t need the information you’re still stubbornly withholding from me, I’d let you fend for yourself.”
I quickly rise off the bed so that I’m standing. “Now wait a minute—”
He strides over like an angry predator, causing me to instinctively back up a step. He looms over me, his eyes cutting me down where I stand. “You asked for my protection, so when my men warn you that your actions are a risk, you stand the fuck down and do what you’re told,” he says between gritted teeth.
My fists clench at my sides as I tilt my chin and glare up at him. “I didn’t realize how unsafe I would be in a crowd. I didn’t think they’d try anything in public.”
The tension in the air is thick as it radiates off him in waves. “That’s the problem. You don’t think,” he says in a biting tone.
I’m more than just a little offended, and I dare to take a step forward, mere inches separating our chests as I show him that I’m not afraid of him and his harsh words. “I think just fine, otherwise, we wouldn’t be standing here right now. What bothers you the most is the fact that I was smart enough to ensure my safety within your territory, and you need me as much as you don’t want admit it,” I shoot back.
His eyes scorch mine. “You’re treading on dangerous ground, Gatita,” he warns softly.
“And you’ve invaded my privacy by entering my apartment without invitation, Nikolas.”
A glint forms in his eye. “Lock p
icking happens to be one of my many talents. You’d take care to remember that from now on.”
I steadily stare him down. “Leave.”
He steps forward, his large body nearly brushing mine, and I have to crane my neck for my eyes to continue holding his. “I don’t know what got into you last night, but you need to take care of it and get your head back in the game,” he warns.
Then, he abruptly backs off and turns, striding towards the door. He pauses in the doorway and turns his head, giving me an unsettling look that brings goosebumps to my flesh. “Be ready at ten this evening.” With that said, he disappears from sight. A moment later, I hear the door open and firmly close, signaling that he’s gone.
I release a soft expletive.
* * *
Tomàs is silent as he escorts me to the idling limousine parked outside the apartment building. I’d apologized to him earlier, and he’d nodded his acceptance, but that was about all I got out of him. He wouldn’t tell me where Nikolas was taking me tonight, either. I’d received a text instructing me to wear something appropriate for an evening out, something similar to what I would wear to the club.
I know that wherever we’re going, it’s not going to be pleasant. He was furious with me earlier, which means he’s going to want to punish me for nearly ruining his plans. As much as I would like to deny his wishes and insist on staying in tonight, I am bound by our agreement to follow through with this charade. Not to mention it was his men that saved my ass last night. Whether I like it or not, I owe him.
So here I am.
Tomàs helps me into the limo, and I carefully settle into the nearest leather seat, adjusting the hem of my dress around my knees. I’d chosen a simple, little black dress for the evening, and the hem falls loosely just above my knees.
Nikolas sits across from me, looking far too handsome and sexy in a pair of dark pants and a navy, button-up, long-sleeved shirt. His eyes drift over me until they meet mine, and they are impassive.
I refuse to be the first to break the silence, so as the limo pulls away from the curb, I gaze out the window. A tense silence fills the atmosphere, and I can feel his eyes on me.
Five minutes later, his voice cuts into the strained silence. “Tonight will be similar to when we were on the yacht. Smile, but remain silent and don’t speak unless spoken to first.”
For the love of… I turn my head slowly and give him a withering look. “It’s the twenty-first century, you know,” I say coldly.
“Thank you for that lovely observation, Gatita. However, in my line of business, women have no place,” he says smoothly.
“Unless she’s under a man,” I state dryly.
His right eyebrow lifts ever so slightly as his blue eyes gleam. “Are you offering?” he asks in a silky tone.
“When hell freezes over.”
“That phrase has become trite. I expected a little more imagination from someone of your…stature,” he muses.
Did he really just take a dig at my height along with my character? He wants creative, and I’m going to give it. “If your man bits dare touch me in any way, I will tear them off and shove them down your throat until you choke on them,” I say sweetly.
“Ah, there she is.”
I grit my teeth and stare out the window. He’s riling me up, and I’m falling for it. This evening is going to be pure torture.
The rest of the ride to our destination is silent.
When the limo finally stops and the door opens, Sergio, Nikolas’s driver, holds out a hand. I flash him a polite smile and slide off the seat as gracefully as possible. While I wait for Nikolas, I study the building before us as I try to determine where we are. It’s large with a stone exterior and an overhang above a single, black-tinted glass door. There’s no name on the building, so I’m still not certain what the evening will bring.
Nikolas puts his hand on my waist, leading me to the door as Tomàs and another man fall into step behind us. We enter a long hallway that is painted a dark beige with low lighting. A bouncer is stationed in front of a solid, black door at the end of the hall. Music can be heard through it, and I wonder if we are at another club.
The bouncer takes one look at Nikolas and nods respectfully before opening the door. Loud, pounding bass greets us, and I’m urged forward.
As soon as I take a look around, I realize it’s a strip club.
Lovely, I think sourly.
At least it’s tastefully decorated and isn’t a dive bar. It’s clearly for the upper-class. The club is decorated in dark reds and browns, leaning towards classy with rich brown furniture. The atmosphere is calm, and the lighting is soft instead of the gaudy flashiness I’d associate with an average strip club. Plenty of men are either at the large, circular bar waiting for their drinks, or they’re sitting among the numerous tables scattered throughout. Meanwhile, strippers dance on various stages around the large room. The atmosphere isn’t all that boisterous, it’s intimate with a hint of erotic expectation lingering in the air.
A well-dressed man promptly approaches us and shakes Nikolas’s hand. He completely ignores me as we’re led across the large room and towards another doorway where another bouncer is stationed.
We’re then ushered into what looks like a private lounge area. There are two stages on each side of the room, and a bar in the center. Circular booths and tables with chairs are artfully placed throughout the room. This is much more intimate. I count about a dozen men lingering about. Some have women on their arms—obviously dates.
An older gentleman leaves a small group and makes his way over to us. He greets Nikolas, and his eyes briefly run over me before he leads us to where two men are sitting in a booth. One of them has a woman with him. She’s sitting on his lap, a serene smile pasted on her face as he ignores her and talks with the other man.
Tomàs and the man that had come with us for added security, fade away as Nikolas motions for me to take a seat. I’m relieved he’s not going to suggest I sit on his damned lap, and judging by the glint in his eye, the thought had probably crossed his devious mind.
I gracefully take a seat and glance at the other woman. Her long, dark hair gleams in the soft lighting, and she gives me a pleasant smile but doesn’t greet me.
Nikolas slides in next to me, and the three men begin discussing cartel business. More than a little interested, I boldly eavesdrop until I grow bored. These are all similar conversations I’d heard my father have with his men. It’s always the same. Problems in the territory are discussed, any gangs that are getting too cocky for their own good, shipment issues, etc.
I was hoping to hear about what’s happening with my father, but not a single word pertaining to him is mentioned. Probably because I’m present.
A barely dressed woman comes over with a tray of drinks, and she arches her back and makes a show out of displaying her body as she sets the glasses down. Her blue eyes meet mine. “Can I get you anything?” she asks with a flirty smile.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I reply politely.
The evening drags on, and I’m a little surprised to note that most of the men ignore the strippers and are more focused on business. I suppose if this is a regular meeting place, they’ve grown accustomed to the nudity.
Nikolas continues to ignore me as he carries on conversations with whomever comes to the booth to talk. It’s apparent that Nikolas is the man of the hour, because the opposite side of the booth is constantly being replaced with someone new.
Growing bored, I find myself watching the women dancing on stage. They’re beautiful and very flexible as they contort themselves around the pole while spinning. They also strip completely without any hint of embarrassment. I’ve never been to a strip club before, so I’m a little fascinated, but not with their nudity. Yes, a woman’s figure is attractive, but it’s their dancing that draws my attention the most. I wonder if they’re naturally that graceful or if it’s a learned trait.
My thigh is lightly squeezed, and I’m startled as my eyes swing
to Nikolas. “Antonio has entertainment waiting for us. Come along,” he says as he lithely rises to his feet and holds out a hand.
Entertainment?
I have no choice but to rise to my feet. The older gentleman that appears to own the club, leans in and says something to Nikolas—who smiles in return and pats the man on the shoulder with a nod.
Our mostly naked waitress from earlier gracefully walks over to us. “This way, please,” she says over the throbbing music as she motions to a hallway in the corner—one that leads further to the back of the club rather than the main showroom.
Nikolas puts his hand on my lower back and nudges me forward. As we follow her, I note that the private party seems to be breaking up. To be honest, this evening hasn’t been all that bad. However, I am concerned over the entertainment Antonio has provided us.
When we enter a private room, I find two handsome men and a scantily clad woman standing on a small stage with a pole in the middle. Nikolas guides me across the room to where a sofa is located and waits for me to take a seat before settling in next to me.
The room is dim thanks to the track lighting above, giving the impression of intimacy. The woman that had brought us to the room has gone, and the door is now closed—ensuring us privacy.
My attention turns to the threesome on stage. This is no doubt going to be a strip show of some sort. The men are muscular with athletic bodies and are wearing leather pants and nothing else. The woman, a beautiful redhead, is dressed in a black skimpy bra, matching panties, and a garter belt with black hosiery.
Throbbing music begins, and the lights dim further as they begin their show. The woman moves her body seductively between the men while still moving around the pole, teasing them. In turn, their hands run over her curves. With bold touches, the men quickly divest her of her lingerie.
It’s not until the woman lifts her arms above her head to hold onto the pole, bracing her back against it as her legs gracefully part, that I realize this is more of a voyeurism porn show. One of the men moves in to lick at her folds while the other plays with her breasts—all while she braces herself against the pole for support.
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