Old Hollywood (Colombian Cartel Book 4) Read online

  The day would come soon enough when he would be her whole world. He just needed to get her away from all those pesky little distractions that came along with her career. He wouldn’t be her captive forever, most certainly the day would come when she would be his.

  It wasn’t just her beauty or her talent that made him do the things he did. It was her authenticity, her innate charisma, that compelled him to pursue her in a way that would surely be frowned upon by polite society.

  He peeked around the corner into her dressing room, ensuring the room was unoccupied before hurrying inside. God, he could smell her. Baby roses and something else, something fruity and sweet wafted through the air -- proof she’d been here only moments ago.

  Just breathing her in like this, taking her very essence into his own body, had his cock clamoring to be released from behind his zipper. If only he could be sure he had time, he could leave something of himself behind for her…an offering. Discreetly, of course.

  He’d done that only once before, when he’d jerked off to completion and smeared his cum on the inside of the panties that the wardrobe girl had put out for her. An hour or so later, he’d nearly come in his pants while she filmed a scene, knowing that his semen was so very close to her, and that it was likely mingling with her feminine essence. As he’d watched that particular scene when it aired several weeks later, he had climaxed harder than he ever had in his life. But, sadly, there wasn’t time to leave any such offerings today.

  He moved over to her makeup table and stroked a fingertip along the hairbrush that she had probably been using moments ago. Touching it enflamed his predatory nature, assuring him that he was on the right path—the path of destruction. Whether it was hers or his didn’t matter, he simply needed the darkness. He usually took something each time he visited her dressing room, just to watch her complaining to an assistant later about someone stealing from her. Lately she hadn’t been saying much, even though he knew she’d noticed things being moved around or missing altogether.

  He had listened in when she discussed her career plans with Luis. He didn’t like Luis. Luis was a parasite, leeching off her talent and beauty. The man who called himself her agent was doing nothing but riding on the coattails of her success. It wasn’t like she needed the man to find her work because her talent spoke for itself. That bastard Luis was going to die and he might make her watch the execution, to make sure she understood how much he loved her.

  He’d learned long ago to embrace his darkness, and it was all because of her. It was why he adored her—simply by existing, she had made easier for him embrace his demons rather than rise above them. Being near her was all he needed. They were soulmates. He knew it and soon she would know it too.

  His heart raced as he stepped over to the rack that held her clothing. Each outfit was picked out carefully right down to the lingerie worn beneath it. He fingered the lace bra and panties hanging beside today’s cream-colored dress. He pulled the panties off the small hanger and stuffed them in the pocket of his jeans with a grin. There was a method to his madness. That specific dress had to have a certain type lingerie beneath it or it would show up on camera.

  Stalking was an art to him. Playing psychological games like this was as important to him as his cat-and-mouse game of following her. He would find some reason to stay in the vicinity so he could see how she reacted. Part of him wanted her to throw a fit, and yet he dreaded ever besmirching his angelic perception of her. No, he would never do that, the cost would be far too high.

  He palmed his hard cock as he patted the panties that were tucked away safely in his pocket. It would be a shame to have to hurt her -- then again, it might be kind of fun.

  Chapter Four

  Antonio Wayne listened as Ricardo and Victor discussed the present situation. He was always careful not to intrude on their father/son dynamic, but he would weigh in when the time was right.

  “I’ve made no secret of the fact that I am not fond of the idea of you and your brother going to Guatemala,” Ricardo was saying. “You’ll have your hands full here when she arrives; you could always let someone else be the bad guy. Just say the word and I’ll arrange it. Either way, I think it’s time that you reveal yourself to her, let her know the role you already play in her life. Play your ace in the hole, as the Americans say.”

  Victor could feel his uncle’s piercing gaze bearing down on him. The man was forever studying people. It didn’t matter how many years he knew a person, he had an innate desire to read their inner motives. Victor had learned long ago to not take it personally. After all, he wasn’t a man who buckled under pressure, he thrived on it.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing that weasel’s face when I tell him I know everything he’s been doing, and that he’s about to lose his best client. I’m going to be honest with you, Father, I have a real problem with the little fucker taking credit for all the things I’ve done for Valentina.”

  Ricardo straightened in his chair, causing his intimidating size to appear even more formidable. “There are times when a man has to put his ego aside to gain the results he wants.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact that I want to feel my hand around his throat squeezing the life from his body. My sources tell me he’s been pursuing some less-than-stellar roles for her. I don’t like what I’m hearing.”

  “Forget about him. How about focusing instead on how good it will feel to finally have your woman’s body under you,” Ricardo growled.

  There would be no changing his father’s mind. The twins knew how far they could push their father and it was obvious he wasn’t budging on this matter. In his father’s eyes, Valentina was a huge business opportunity. She would be a tremendous asset to their plans to monopolize the Latin American television market.

  “The first thing you’re going to do is deal with that agent of hers. Luis has no idea you know what he’s been up to; you have the upper hand, now use it.”

  “Yes, sir.” Victor’s tone was even-keeled but his father knew him well enough to know the agent would regret the day he ever heard the Ramirez name.

  If Valentina was anything, she was resourceful and she had good instincts. The fact that her agent held power over her career made her tend to be suspicious of his motives. It was time to find out exactly what was going on behind the scenes. She suspected he was lying to her and it was time to either confirm her suspicions or put them to rest. Either way, knowing more would give her the one thing that had been so elusive of late: peace of mind. It was also going to give her the control that was her God given right to have.

  She could feel her adrenaline pumping as she made her way through the darkened hallways of the television studio, which had been abandoned hours ago by employees who had gone home to their families. She wondered sometimes what it would be like to have a significant other waiting for her and maybe two or three little sets of pattering feet on ceramic tile flooring, but she had given up that dream when she chose to be married to her career.

  She stopped outside Luis’ office and took a moment to listen and take in her surroundings. Though there was a security guard on duty, he was most likely doing what he always did, sleeping on the job or playing a computer game. She reached into her jean pocket and pulled out the copy of his office key she’d had the foresight to obtain months ago.

  She paused for a moment to struggle with her conscience. Was this breaking and entering? Not if she had a key, right? No matter how she’d gotten it…

  She’d always approached her career with the mindset of ‘go big or go home’. That meant dreaming big. Though her dreams were big she wasn’t like most of the actresses she worked with who thought nothing of fucking their way to the top; she believed her work spoke for itself. Other actresses were often catty, too. More than once she’d seen one actress sabotage another’s wardrobe, lines, and anything else they could. None of them were beyond stepping on the back of a fellow actress to climb their way up the proverbial ladder of success.

  Valentina was
a perfectionist. While other actresses were out partying, she was memorizing dialogue. Hours were spent in front of a mirror perfecting facial expressions to ensure they were realistic with the scenes she played. She put in the time because she had every intention of making it big—the right way. But that didn’t mean she shouldn’t look out for her own interests, even if she had to sneak around a little to do it.

  Her decision made, she unlocked the door and pulled out the small flashlight she was carrying in her jacket pocket. She followed the beam of light to Luis’ desk, determined to find out what the hell her agent was hiding from her.

  She stifled back a cry when she bumped her leg on the edge of the heavy, antique desk. Her agent had spared no expense when it came to furniture. He had an image to uphold, after all, and he’d had no trouble letting Valentina pay for it one way or another. After he hired her he brought in a decorator to furnish his personal space with upscale furniture, lavish rugs, and costly art. No wonder the bastard was being so evasive of late, he didn’t want to lose his ride on the gravy train.

  There on the desk was a file with her name on it. She was shocked when she opened it and saw a picture of a stranger—a good looking stranger. No, not entirely a stranger, actually; she had seen him once before. It had been a brief introduction but he’d made a lasting impression. She often had to ‘meet and greet’ with special guests who were getting a tour of the studio, so the meeting itself hadn’t been out of the ordinary. But the man himself certainly was. Dark hair and black eyes stared back at her, a strong, angular face with prominent cheekbones and an aquiline nose that suggested a man who personified power and determination.

  Who are you? There it was, jotted down in Luis’ rambling scrawl in the lower corner: Ricardo Victor Ramirez Jr. The words rolled off her tongue with ease and she had to stifle the urge to squeeze her thighs together at the memory of the way he’d looked at her during their brief encounter so long ago. An unfamiliar warmth flooded through her core, causing her to second guess her choice to abstain from male companionship. She was a strong-willed woman and it would take a certain type of man to interest her. Maybe someone like him.

  She moved over to the copy machine and copied the documents in the folder so she could go over them later when she had more time. She closed the folder and then decided she wanted one more thing: that picture. Whoever this guy was, he was fucking hot and she wanted to know why Luis had his photo in her file.

  She turned the copier off after she finished, grabbed a paperclip from the desk and clipped the papers together. She closed the door behind her and locked it, then tiptoed down the darkened hallway toward her dressing room. She was so entrenched in thought that she didn’t see the security guard until he spoke to her.

  “I came in here to check on you when I saw lights on. I thought everyone was gone for the night.”

  Valentina jerked back against the wall and pressed her hand to her chest, which sent papers scattering all over the floor. He reached down to pick up the papers. She bent down at the same time, almost bumping heads with him in her haste to get to the documents before he did.

  She proceeded into her dressing room and smoothly placed the papers on her vanity. Turning to grace him with her most persuasive, starlet smile, she said, “That’s so sweet of you. It’s always good to know there’s a hero around.”

  Two weeks later, Valentina was in front of yet another vanity mirror, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves as she studied her dialogue in her new dressing room. Luis had come through with the movie role after all. A romantic suspense flick that would not be appearing in any movie theaters but would instead go ‘straight to video’, which according to Luis meant that it would be in more hands faster and with less overhead costs. She worried that such a project didn’t have the star-maker stature that she had expected, but Luis assured her that all was well.

  The timing couldn’t have been more perfect, with production scheduled to wrap just in time for another telenovela to begin shooting. At the moment, she was between scenes, waiting for Luis to swing by before lunch to check on her as promised. She needed to talk to him about Mateo.

  She had been on the set for three days and so far, so good. The crew was professional and the director, Ramone Ortiz, seemed to know exactly what he wanted. The only problem so far was her co-star, Mateo Vasquez. Mateo was an up and coming young actor with a big ego and wandering hands. She could barely concentrate on finding her mark when she had to keep moving his hands off her ass or back down to her waist. He was clever too, always managing to work the not-so-innocent touches into a scene or touching her when she was out of camera range. And he kept saying he couldn’t wait to turn up the heat with her. What the hell was he talking about? She had seen the script and she would hardly call one chaste kiss in the final scene ‘heat’.

  The script left a bit to be desired. The dialogue sounded stiff to her, way too formal. She wondered if the director would be open to her improvising some new lines to make the conversation sound more natural. It was worth a try. In the meantime, she was irritated to have to suffer through her next scene in nothing but a skimpy negligee. At least it came with a silk robe that would provide some cover from Mateo’s roaming paws. She’d keep the belt tied unless someone told her to do otherwise.

  She wanted this role badly enough that she was willing to endure the occasional scripted embrace with Mateo since they were surrounded by the crew and under the supervision of the director. Luis had assured her she was in good hands and that she could feel comfortable doing whatever the director asked of her, so against her better judgment she forced herself to relax about it.

  “How’s my favorite rising star doing?” Luis breezed into the dressing room holding a sheath of papers by his side.

  “Doing fine, Luis. Just ready to get this next scene done. Mateo is plucking my last nerve, I just want to get it over with.”

  “Great, great,” he said absently. “Listen, I’ve got some last-minute changes to the next scene, you need to study them and be ready to show them what a professional you are.” He handed the papers to her and she flipped through them, looking for any additional lines or stage direction.

  “What? I-I don’t understand…” she sputtered as color rose in her cheeks.

  “What’s to understand? You read the script, you memorize your lines, you stand on your mark, and follow the script,” he drawled.

  “No, it’s just…I mean…Well, I can’t do this,” she said with a scowl as she scanned the new pages. “Luis, this says I’m supposed to let Mateo stick his tongue in my mouth while he removes my robe. I’m supposed to stand there wearing next to nothing and let him start kissing and touching me.”

  At his impatient look, she flipped to the next page and gasped. “Then I’m supposed to let the negligee drop to the floor?! Luis, I’m not wearing anything under this robe and negligee.”

  “And your point is…?”

  “Well, it gets worse, look at this. It just says that additional stage direction for the love scene on the bed will be provided on-set.”

  “Right. It’ll be a closed set, Val, just you and Matteo, the director, the continuity girl, the camera and lighting crew, the makeup artist. Very, very private.”

  “Doesn’t sound too private to me. I don’t do nudity, Luis. You know that.”

  “Yes, you do, according to the contract addendum you signed, not to mention the contract you signed for this film. I’m here to remind you of your responsibilities, Valentina, as is my right and obligation as your agent.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I was worried you might not, so I brought along a copy of the addendum to refresh your memory. It says here that you authorize me to secure movie roles in which you agree to perform nude or semi-nude and that you agree to full contact with your co-stars as required, up to and including performing certain simulated sexual acts as required for the artistic integrity of the film.”

  “What?!” She snatched the document from his hands
and stared down at her signature below those very words. Shit.

  “You know nudity is no big deal these days. It’s perfectly acceptable, even expected, when it’s art. This will be art. And you’ve kept yourself under wraps so thoroughly in your previous roles that the chance to see Valentina Vargas nude practically guarantees big box office sales. Your tits all by themselves are worth millions, trust me. And that’s what it’s all about. Fame and fortune. This will make you a household name, just like you’ve always wanted.”

  “No, I can’t go out there and--”

  “And just think,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “years from now when you’re old and shriveled up like an old prune, your perfect curves will be preserved on film for posterity. You’ll be forever young, just like you said. Now, you’ll be on set in five minutes, ready to give yourself to your art,” he said pleasantly before he straightened, his features becoming hard and forbidding, “or I will sue you for breach of contract. Because once word gets out that you won’t show a little skin when asked, you’ll never work again. And that, my dear, would be detrimental to my cash flow.”

  “Cut!” The director’s voice cut through the silence and was quickly joined by the collective groans of the cast and crew at yet another delay. “C’mon, Valentina, I’d like to see my family again someday. Can you just stay on your mark, please?” He tugged on her shoulders as he moved her into position directly in front of her smirking co-star. “Now, this is an important moment in this couple’s relationship and when you step away from Mateo like that, you fuck up the lighting. Just stay on your mark. Don’t. Move. When it’s your turn, speak. Hell, you don’t even have any lines in this scene until you move over to the bed.”