Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Jorge
“Yes, chica. You can stay.”
Liesel’s panic attack unnerved me since I recognized what was happening all too clearly.
I’ve had more than enough of them to recognize when one’s starting.
Hers wasn’t nearly as bad as it could’ve been.
It made me wonder if she’s had them before.
The moment I realized what was happening, instincts screamed to call Bastian and have him come back to check on her in case he was familiar with what hers are like.
But since she was able to control it, and it didn’t wind up being that severe, I’m glad I breathed through my own rising panic.
Sensing she needs time alone with me, the others disappear.
Gretel goes into her bedroom to gather her belongings, and Heidi and Friedrich go back next door to pack theirs.
Heidi offers to gather her sister’s things as well.
Once we’re alone, I lift Liesel onto my lap.
She kicks off her shoes and burrows against me.
“I’m sorry about that, Jorge.”
“You never have to apologize for needing me. I promised you I would be here. I’m on your side. I’ll protect you and support you any way I can.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
She whispers those three words as she turns to look in the bedrooms’ direction.
Gretel’s closed her door, so I’m certain she can’t hear us.
I stroke hair away from Liesel’s shoulder and lean forward to kiss it before kissing along her neck up to behind her ear, I press my lips close to the shell, and my warm breath makes her shiver.
“That’s what daddies are for, chiquita.”
My hand glides down her back to cup her ass.
It rests heavily there. Tempting as it is to squeeze, I’m certain she’s still sore from earlier.
I gaze down at her, and her eyes drift closed as she relaxes fully against me.
Her breathing is even and calm now. I’m not convinced she’s asleep, but she’s dozing.
I do my best to avoid disturbing her as I shift and pull my phone from my pocket.
With my arms boxing her in and my screen behind her, I text Joaquin.
Me
Friedrich offered help through his connections to the Camorra.
My brother’s response comes three minutes later.
Joaquin
You knew he would.
Me
Yes, but it surprises me how quickly he made that offer. Can you look into whether that family has ties to Salvatore or if anyone has been speaking to him recently?
Joaquin
Of course. It’ll take me a little while, but I can work on that right now.
Me
Those photos freaked me out.
Joaquin
I bet they did. We can be on a flight in 20 minutes.
Me
You already gassed up the plane.
Joaquin
You saw I included Tío Enrique when I sent the clean version of that folder back to you. There was definitely spyware on there. He ordered our pilots to be on call. He’s waiting for you to ask. But only because he trusts you have the sense to do that so he doesn’t have to send any of us.
Me
Just you and Alejandro for now.
Joaquin
Pablo and Javier can come too.
Me
I don’t want to pull them away from their wives if we don’t have to. They’re both still newlyweds.
Joaquin
True but Florencia and Madeline understand. It’s not like Pablo and Javier haven’t traveled without them.
Me
I know but those trips haven’t been into the unknown. They were dangerous for sure but not without some reassurances.
Our texts flow back and forth quickly. As much as I’m typing, I’m doing my best not to disturb Liesel as she rests against me.
Joaquin
Fine. I’ll speak to Tío and see whether he agrees with you. Regardless we’ll be there in about nine hours.
Me
Thank you.
It’s nearly an eight-hour flight when there’s no headwind. My brother’s building in an hour’s buffer to get everybody to the private airport on Long Island and get wheels up.
Liesel’s eyes pop open when she hears the bedroom door open. She doesn’t scramble to get off my lap, but her cheeks pinken as she turns toward her mother. Gretel takes it with aplomb as she watches Liesel and me rise from the sofa.
I stand with Liesel in front of me with my left hand on her outer shoulder. Not only am I trying to be respectful in front of the mother of the woman—I don’t even know how to describe my relationship with Liesel—I guess the woman I’m seeing—but I’m also using Liesel to hide my raging hard-on.
Fortunately, I’ve never been into tight trousers, but it wouldn’t take close examination to be able to tell my cock’s at attention.
The suite’s door opens, and Heidi and Friedrich step inside with their belongings.
Heidi wheels a small suitcase over to where Gretel still stands near the bedroom doors.
I know we can show up unannounced to Noor, and she’ll make space available for us, but I prefer to be more courteous than that.
I excuse myself to the bedroom where I make a quick call to let my mother’s friend know what’s going on and to ask if I can bring the others over.
It only takes a few minutes to make the arrangements.
I consider whether to send them without me.
It feels rude to do so, but it would certainly be far less conspicuous, especially if these people continue to take photos.
I have no way of knowing who else might see these pictures right now.
For all I know, whoever this is could also be sending them to Interpol or the FBI.
It’s one thing to be seen at public events with Hisham.
It’s another to be seen going to his house.
It’s never been overly concerning to us for anyone to see Mamá hanging out with Noor or to even have people see us on a yacht vacationing together.
It’s different when you have questionable guests over to your main residence.
That starts to raise eyebrows. I return to the living room after I hang up with Noor.
“Guards will take you to Noor’s house. Her husband, Hisham, is there right now. He worked from home today. They have more than enough space for you. You should be well fed and comfortable while you’re there.”
It doesn’t take long for Gretel, Heidi, and Friedrich to say their goodbyes and leave with a set of guards to drive them in one of our SUVs.
I pull up the tracking app and show Liesel.
We can watch the dot while they head to Noor’s house.
Relief washes over Liesel’s face before she wraps her arms around my waist. It seems so inconsequential, but I knew it would reassure her.
“Are you hungry, little one?”
Our meals never seem to happen at the right time.
“I am. Hunger keeps hitting me in the quiet moments when something goes wrong, and I forget I haven’t eaten.”
“Do you want me to order you a cheeseburger?”
I waggle my eyebrows and grin. She huffs, then nods.
“Yes, please.”
After I’ve phoned in our order to room service, we both glance at our computers.
She looks toward the refrigerator, and I’m certain she’s wondering about the box inside.
Once she’s asleep, I must give it to one of my men to deal with.
It can’t stay in the fridge much longer.
It’s already been compromised. They won’t dispose of it, but they’ll know what to do to store it.
Grizzly is the only word that comes to mind. If I hadn’t been around such extreme violence my entire life, it would be enough to send a shiver along my spine. Instead, all I can do is heave an imaginary sigh and move on.
Neither of us really focuses on the TV show I turn on while we wait for our food. Neither of us is chatty as we eat, but we don’t mind the companionable silence. Once our trays are cleared away, I extend my hand to Liesel and lead her from the sofa to the bedroom.
“Strip.”
The single word command startles her. There’s more authority in my voice now than when we came in here earlier for her spanking.
It’s my Dom voice. She scrambles to obey, pulling her clothes off and hurriedly folding them, unsure where to put them.
She holds them in front of her chest as though they’re a shield.
Her confusion about the shift in my tone is obvious.
I’ve hardened my gaze and watch her. Her gaze sweeps around the room before she deposits the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed.
“Come and kneel before me.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Her answer slips from between her lips with no thought.
Her gaze darts around, but she refuses to look up at me once she’s kneeling.
I do nothing but watch her. She fights to remain still, but it’s clear she doesn’t know what to do.
I know she wants to see my face, hoping she can read my expectations.
At the same time, she doesn’t want to give in to that temptation.
She wants to maintain control over her willpower.
The minutes drag on, and her confusion pulsates from her. It takes a solid five minutes before her shoulders relax, practically drooping before her chin tucks, and she sighs. I cup her chin, and my thumb strokes over her cheekbone. She looks up at me.
“Such a good little chiquita.”
A smile twitches at her lips, but she fights it. She lowers her gaze again and leans her cheek against my hand. I twist my wrist so I can tunnel my fingers into her hair rather than support her chin, but my thumb continues to stroke her cheekbone. I do nothing more than that.
I’m certain her mind is buzzing as she tries to guess what I want or what I’ll ask next. The unknown is scary, but the longer I remain a silent presence, the more I feel her relax under my hand. The tension in her neck eases, and her head bobs twice before she lets her chin dip to her chest.
With each passing minute, she relinquishes more control to me, putting her faith in me, knowing whatever happens next, she must go with the flow since she’s naked and kneeling before me.
Either are a sign of submission in this dynamic.
Together, it proves I lead, and she follows.
I don’t underestimate the enormity of her trust.