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  “We never would have done it if we’d known they were the cartel’s women.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” Victor said benevolently with a nod in King’s direction.

  Valentina’s eyes darted quickly over to King, just in time to see him push the heel of his palm into a small hidden panel in the wall, and then place his thumb on a sensor. A low humming noise filled the air as the wall, which was apparently only a partition, began to rise. The whir of the motor was like an eerie melody warning that something ominous was about to happen. When the panel had lifted completely, it revealed a glassed-in enclosure with a beautiful view of the outside.

  King came closer and pulled a knife from his jeans, whipping it open with ease. He cut through the zip ties on the men’s hands and feet.

  “Oh, thank God, you’re letting us go,” Franco directed his words toward Victor. “I swear, we’ll tell the Sinaloans to stay away from your family and your business.”

  The smirk on Victor’s face made no sense to Valentina. What the hell was going on?

  “Come on, boys, you’re free,” Victor said easily as he gestured grandly to the door that led to the Great Outdoors. Valentina watched as he opened the door and led the men through it.

  “I’m afraid this is where we say goodbye,” Victor said, his voice far too quiet. “That door is your next stop.” He stepped back through the door leading into the warehouse and watched as the two men ventured through the door, staggering through the plush green grass.

  This wasn’t so bad. Valentina breathed a sigh of relief—too soon. From behind a large bush emerged two female lions who began circling the men, who were now frozen in fear. It was like a train wreck, she could not look away. She hadn’t realized there was sound was being piped in until the females began communicating with each other.

  They worked together, smoothly herding the men until one of the beasts leapt through the air. Her counterpart roared as the first beast ripped Hugo’s throat to shreds, slinging his body around like a ragdoll. Franco was next. The kills were gruesome but swift.

  What happened next fascinated Valentina even as it sickened her. Another lion – a male this time -- emerged from the brush and settled in to feast on the fresh kill while the lionesses stepped away, giving him first dibs. A perfect show of dominance in the animal kingdom.

  It wasn’t the roars of the lions, the crunching of bones, or even the bloodcurdling screams that haunted Valentina’s dreams for years to come; it was the purring of the big cats as they feasted on the enemies of the Colombian cartel. Their pleasure at working together to bring down the humans who had invaded their habitat. They really weren’t all that different than the Ramirez family.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Antonio Wayne swirled the aguardiente in the snifter before taking a slow sip.

  “I don’t know how you can drink that shit. Do you know some of that crap is upwards of sixty percent alcohol?”

  “That’s why they call it firewater, my brother. Now, your son’s woman…how do you think she’s going to fare after viewing her first kill?”

  “Depends on what those crazy ass boys of mine did to them. If they cut off body parts like you do, she’ll probably be traumatized.”

  “Well, you know what they say: a chainsaw is the cartel’s truth serum.”

  “We both know you’re not limited to just chainsaws, my brother.”

  “True, true. I find it soothing to come up with new techniques. It’s how I relax. I have a stressful job,” Antonio smirked, taking another drink of the potent concoction. Mmmm, it burned so good going down.

  “You’re a sadist, motherfucker—you love what you do. You’re the best. Nobody, and I mean nobody, even comes close to your expertise in a torture chamber. You approach your work with showmanship.” Antonio Wayne nodded graciously in acknowledgement of his praise. “You should have been a Medieval executioner.”

  “Oh, now there’s an idea worth exploring. Medieval torture techniques…”

  “Yeah,” Ricardo retorted. “Google’s your friend, right?”

  Antonio Wayne’s chest swelled with pleasure at his brother’s pride in his skills. The bond they shared was far deeper than the typical sibling relationship. After all, Ricardo had taken it upon himself to take care of his little brother when their sorry ass mother wouldn’t do it. Ricardo was the closest thing to a parent that Antonio Wayne had ever had. Truth be told, Ricardo had been the only person Antonio Wayne loved until Roxanne had come into his life. When his twin nephews had been born, his family circle had been complete.

  God only knew how his life would have turned out if Ricardo hadn’t gotten him out of Colombia as a child. Together, they operated from a position of hard-fought power within the cartel. It was not the life Ricardo had wanted for his little brother back then, but it was the life they had each chosen. Because of Ricardo, Antonio Wayne had a family. And he would kill to keep that family safe.

  “Back to the matter at hand. Do you think Victor’s up for this? It’s asking a lot of him and, let’s face it, this is unchartered territory for the boy.” Antonio Wayne sat in silence, waiting for Ricardo to reveal whether he thought Victor would be able to stand strong in the face of obsessive love. A woman could make a man soft if he wasn’t careful and there was no place for weakness in the cartel. He needed to know if his nephew was strong enough to keep his woman in check, if he could keep his wits about him when his deepest protective instincts surged to the fore. Was the Ramirez blood that ran through the boy’s veins potent enough to withstand the charm of the beautiful television star—strong enough to keep him from going soft?

  Ricardo’s eyes narrowed and glinted with malevolence, the way they always did when shit got real. “It’s not like you to doubt your nephew. The boy’s just like you. To doubt him is to doubt yourself.” His unflinching gaze demanded that Antonio Wayne take a look in the mirror, if only figuratively.

  Antonio Wayne knew his brother spoke the truth; everyone had said it from the time Victor was a child. And, knowing himself as he did, he knew that in the same way he had handled his own woman over the years, Victor would handle his.

  “Look…” Antonio Wayne glanced at Ricardo, then gently jostled his glass and watched idly as the liquid gently swayed between his fingers. “There’s nothing for you to be offended about. You know I had to ask. This is a rite of passage for anyone coming into this lifestyle. The human psyche is complicated at best and seeing torture like that when you’ve never been subjected to it before is enough to give anyone nightmares—not to mention guilt. You and I both know what guilt can do to a person who was raised in polite society. They start thinking they can’t carry the burden of knowledge from what they’ve witnessed, so they decide to confide in someone to get it off their chest.

  “That’s the sort of thing that would make Agent Turner’s career—one last hoorah before he retires. We need to be sure of Valentina’s loyalty. That’s all I’m saying.” He forced himself to meet his brother’s gaze. This wasn’t an issue Antonio Wayne was going to let go.

  Antonio Wayne braced himself as his brother leaned forward to respond. Relief surge through him as a wicked smile curved at the corners of Ricardo’s mouth. “Maybe it’s time we use Agent Turner’s partner against him. I heard the girls talking and Rene Murphy is a big fan of Victor’s woman. Perhaps we need to appeal to our adversary’s fangirl side.”

  Antonio Wayne considered what his brother was saying. “Interesting. But Murphy can be a real hard ass about procedures, so I’m not sure how much luck we’ll have with that. I mean, that’s a fine line, big brother. If we handled it without the use of outsiders, we’d have more control.”

  “It’s a thought, an option. The decision doesn’t have to be made today. In the meantime, I think it’s time we made some progress on expanding our media interests. How are we doing on the purchase of the television station?”

  It was a time of great change for the cartel as they pursued more conventional business
interests, and the brothers had adjourned to the study after dinner to catch each other up on recent events.

  “The head honcho, Briggs, is still refusing to consider our offer.”

  “That is unfortunate – for him. We have tried to play nice,” Ricardo said, shaking his head slowly. “We followed his process, submitted multiple bids. Good offers, too. Perhaps it is time we step up our efforts to convince him to see things our way. Is he saying why he won’t take our bid even though he’s considering other bids that are far lower than ours?”

  “Seems he’s got some reservations about selling to the likes of us. You know, cartel. Oh, he also threw in something about us already having one television station—said he knew a takeover when he saw one and he wasn’t about to be the one to give us that kind of power.”

  “I’m fucking offended,” Ricardo scoffed, a cruel grin twisting his lips. “He’s right about one thing though: we are fucking taking over. This deal is just a stepping stone, but an important one. We’ll be one step closer to buying the parent company with its more expanded line up of business interests. Now, that will give us the kind of media connections we need. It will also solidify our peace treaty with the Bratva. Glazov already has law enforcement in his pocket but fucking reporters are always sniffing around. This way, we’ll have something they need and respect: influence. When you control the media, you control the message.”

  The thought of having an advantage over the East Coast cell of the Bratva – more specifically, over Alexander Glazov – pleased Ricardo. Glazov was one ice-cold son of a bitch and the only organized crime rival Ricardo regarded with any respect. The Colombian cartel and the Bratva had maintained an uneasy peace, and currently things were going smoothly between their organizations. But that could change at any time, so a little leverage could prove helpful.

  “They don’t need us or anyone else,” Antonio Wayne sneered. “But I like the idea because it keeps us from needing them. I don’t want to be beholden to Alexander Glazov—that fucker’s crazy. Maybe even crazier than me. We need to send a message to that son of a bitch who won’t sell.”

  “You of all people calling anybody crazy is hilarious,” Ricardo guffawed. “You’re the craziest person I know. We could pull a page from ‘The Godfather’ -- pay a visit to his horse stable and leave a horse head in his bed.” Ricardo laughed out loud at his own joke.

  Antonio Wayne scowled at his brother. “I don’t hurt animals.”

  “You’ll brutalize a human but won’t hurt an animal, go figure.”

  “Damn straight, I will. If you send anybody to fuck up any of his animals, I’ll kill whoever it is myself.”

  “Calm down. I’m an animal lover too,” Ricardo muttered. “Not to mention, Juanita would never forgive me if I did something to an animal. Trust me, you do not want that woman mad at you.”

  “So, what’s this guy’s story? I need to know what we’re working with. Does he have a family? We just need to find out what is precious to him and use it against him,” Antonio Wayne mused aloud. “You want to take a page out of The Godfather? Then let’s make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

  “I like it,” said Ricardo, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  The words were no sooner out of his mouth than a knock on the door prompted him to look up and see the bodyguard letting Victor in.

  “Ah…speak of the devil.”

  “Why am I not surprised you two are in here having a come-to-Jesus moment?” Victor’s voice was gruff. “I figured I’d stop in before you called me on the carpet again.”

  A hearty laugh from his father for his spot-on insight put Victor a little more at ease. “So…you know we’re concerned about your soon-to-be better half.”

  Antonio Wayne looked up from where he was toying with the tassel on his Italian leather shoe. “That remains to be seen…the whole better half thing.”

  His uncle’s eyes were cold and calculating as he spoke, but Victor wasn’t offended. He had grown up with these two intense men watching over his every move in their efforts to prepare him for cartel life; he’d gotten used to their intense scrutiny years ago. Ultimately, he credited their high expectations with making him a better man. “Hey, I get it, the first cut’s the deepest. The first time seeing a session always hits a person hard. Leave this to me. I. Will. Handle. Her.” A wicked grin came over his face, “Oh, will I ever handle her. It’s going to be fun.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about you and your cock having fun; however, I do care about effectiveness,” Ricardo snapped, baring his teeth as he leaned forward. “I haven’t worked all these years to build this business, just for your woman’s guilty conscience to bring us all down.”

  “I get it. There’s no way I’m letting my woman take down this family. I love her, but I can handle it. No worries.” He took a moment to look over at his uncle. “I understand what’s involved here. If you don’t trust her, then trust me.”

  Antonio Wayne raised his glass of aguardiente. “Salud! That’s my nephew…taking care of business. If this woman is the woman for you, she will make whatever sacrifices are necessary. It won’t be easy, it never is, but if she’s half the woman I think she is, she’ll bite the fucking bullet and do what needs to be done. Consider your aunt and your mother as your secret weapons. They’ll be able to relate to her and it will give her someone we trust for her to confide in. It will also keep us in the know during her transition.”

  Victor scoffed. “Transition?! I don’t fucking think so. She can go willingly or I’ll fucking drag her!” How far would he go to ensure the family was kept under the FBI’s radar? They all knew deep down that if she wasn’t up to the challenge and betrayed the cartel, Victor would be called upon to do the unthinkable and eliminate the problem. He would hate himself for it, but he would do it. And then he would kill himself, because no way would he live without her.

  “That’s good to know,” Antonio Wayne said as he set his glass down on the table by his chair. “You know how I hate surprises.”

  Later that night, Antonio Wayne lay sprawled on his back in bed, his arms resting next to his head on the pillow. He was having a particularly raw dream about the first time he had ever seen Roxanne. He was seated in front of a tall cage and she was sitting in the far corner of the metal structure, her chin tilted defiantly.

  He was engaged in a battle of wills with his dick, and his dick was winning. She was spectacular, every inch of her. Even as he marveled at her defiance, he began to second guess his initial anger over Ricardo’s unconventional choice of gift.

  “See what you do to me already?” he asked as he palmed his cock through his pants.

  Roxanne rose up onto her knees and shuffled to the front of the cage, her eyes locked onto the outline of his erection. With her hands wrapped around the bars, she spread her knees wide apart and leaned forward.

  “Please. I want it. Give it to me,” she whispered, her voice husky with need.

  He stood and approached the cage. He lowered the zipper and let his cock fall heavily into his hand. He stroked his aching shaft as he looked down at her.

  “Say it again.”

  “Please. I need it.” She licked her lips and angled her chin up toward the head of his cock. He took a final step forward and grabbed onto the bars by his head, leaning his massive frame against the metal.

  “Take it, then. Take what I give you,” he rasped as his cock slid between her waiting lips.

  “Mmmm…mine…”

  “Fuuuck, yes…” he groaned, an agonized frown knitting his brow as her tongue lapped eagerly at the precum along his slit. He white-knuckled the iron bars and prayed his quaking knees wouldn’t betray him. He pressed his hips hard against the bars of the cage because he wanted her to have it all.

  She wet her lips and sucked his balls into her mouth, one by one, before releasing them with a gratifying ‘pop’, just so her wicked tongue could trace a fiery path over the thick, angry veins along his shaft.

  With hi
s eyes closed, he had no warning as the slick, velvety heat of Roxanne’s mouth engulfed him. She devoured him eagerly, moving up and down his shaft like she owned it. The combined efforts of her lips and tongue overwhelmed him and he couldn’t stop the words that poured from his own mouth. “Ah, fucking hell! Where have you been? So good…fucking good…”

  His hips jerked forward roughly in a mindless effort to get as close as possible to the source of his pleasure. The sudden move caused Roxanne to choke and gasp for breath. If she thought he’d let up on her, she was wrong. The sounds of her struggle for air only fueled his dark, decadent desire for this woman.

  “Do you want more of me?” he rasped, nostrils flaring as he took in the sight of her swollen lips and glistening eyes.

  “Yes,” she whispered, her voice throaty and laced with need. “Oh, yes. I want all of you. Give me all of you. Do it. I want you to do it.”

  “Finish me then,” he growled. With his hands still clamped onto the bars, he took over the action, fucking her mouth with relentless abandon. Every thrust felt better than the last as he powered in and out of her eager mouth.

  The not entirely unwelcome sensation of pressure against his anus brought Antonio Wayne’s mind back to full consciousness. He awakened with a jerk, momentarily confused as memories of the hottest dream of his life blended with the pleasure of having his wife’s mouth on him in the present moment.

  His head slammed back against the pillows as Roxanne slid her finger inside him and caressed his prostate. “Woman,” he groaned, spreading his legs wider as his hips undulated against her mouth. “What…oh fuck, what are you doing?”

  “Whatever I want,” she purred. “Give it to me,” she whispered before taking him back into her mouth. As the tingle at the base of his spine signaled the start of what promised to be a spectacular climax, Antonio Wayne decided that perhaps he liked surprises more than he had thought.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Victor’s hot breath burned against Valentina’s skin. His eyes were so black she couldn’t tell where the iris ended and the pupil began—which always meant trouble. The danger he exuded was like a magnet that pulled her in, drawing her inexorably deeper into his web. His hand rested on her neck with the pad of his thumb slowly stroking over her jugular vein.