22. Dante
TWENTY-TWO
The heavy bag swayed with each thunderous blow, the rhythmic thud of my fists echoing through the gritty, dimly lit boxing gym. Sweat poured down my face, stinging my eyes, but I didn’t falter, my focus unwavering as I channeled my frustrations into every punch. The worn leather felt like a second skin against my wrapped knuckles, each impact reverberating through my arms and into my core.
The gym was a relic from another era that felt frozen in time and the perfect place to burn off the calories from my lunch with Natalia, not to mention the fucking tension.
I sensed Marco’s presence before I saw him, his familiar footsteps approaching the ring with a purposeful stride. I threw one last vicious combination, my fists connecting with the heavy bag in a rapid-fire succession of lefts and rights, sending it swinging wildly on its chain. Satisfied with my handiwork, I turned to face my friend and confidant, a wolfish grin spreading across my face as I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand.
“I hope you’re here to spar and not just to admire the view,” I quipped, my eyes glinting with challenge as I took in Marco’s amused grin on his face.
Marco chuckled, shaking his head as he ducked under the ropes and into the ring with a fluid grace that belied his size. “And risk messing up this pretty face? Not a chance, hermano. I’ll leave the masochism to you.”
I tossed him a pair of focus mitts, grinning as I rolled my shoulders, preparing for another round. “Then shut up and hold these for me. I’ve got some steam to blow off.”
Marco obliged, slipping on the mitts and bracing himself for the onslaught. As I unleashed a flurry of jabs and crosses, the satisfying smack of leather against leather filling the air, we fell into our familiar rhythm, the conversation flowing as quickly as the punches.
“So, about this DEA agent,” Marco began, his dark eyes searching mine for any hint of uncertainty. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Dante? That is some serious shit we’re talking about.”
My jaw tightened, my punches coming faster and harder as the anger surged through me like a tidal wave. The thought of Natalia infiltrating my world and threatening everything I had built made my blood boil. But I couldn’t let Marco see the cracks in my armor or let him know just how much she had gotten under my skin.
“I’ve got it under control,” I gritted out, my breath coming in sharp bursts as I punched the mitts with renewed vigor. “Natalia thinks she’s playing me, but I’m holding all the cards. I’m feeding her just enough bullshit to keep her on the hook but not enough to do any real damage.”
Marco grunted as he absorbed a particularly vicious left hook, his brow furrowing with concern. “And what about your father? If he finds out about her...”
I felt my blood run cold at the mention of my father, my fist connecting with the mitt with a resounding crack. Ricardo Reyes was not a man to be trifled with, and if he discovered that I had been harboring a DEA agent right under his nose... well, let’s just say it wouldn’t be pretty.
“He won’t because you’re not going to tell him. No one is. We’ve already been over this once.” My voice was low and dangerous, the unspoken threat hanging heavy between us. I held Marco’s gaze, my eyes boring into his with an intensity that left no room for argument. “This stays between us, understand?”
Marco held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, the mitts making a soft thud as they collided. “Hey, you know I’ve always got your back, hermano. If you say this is the best way to handle it, then I trust you.”
I nodded, my lips pressed into a thin line. “Good. Because we’ve got bigger fish to fry than some DEA chick with a hard-on for playing spy games.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed, his head cocked to the side as he regarded me with a knowing look. “Speaking of fish, what’s the deal with your sister’s boyfriend? I haven’t found shit on that pendejo. How about you?”
I shook my head, not admitting I’ve been too busy fucking a DEA agent to investigate Sofia’s new beau. “Not a damn thing. But I know there’s something off about him, Marco. I can feel it in my gut.”
Marco nodded. “Want me to dig deeper? See if I can shake loose any skeletons in his closet?”
“Fuck, yeah. Do it,” I told him, my tone hushed. “Bring Pedro into the mix if that’s what it takes. Just keep it on the DL. Sofia’s already so far up in my ass I can taste her goddamn perfume. The last thing I need is her pressing me with a million fucking questions.”
Marco grinned, his teeth flashing white against his tanned skin. “Discreet is my middle name, hermano.”
As Marco left the gym, I shifted my focus back to the punching bag, my hands pounding out a storm of punches. I had this gut sense that the coming days would demand every scrap of power and precision from me. Growing up in the cartel had taught me one thing: appearances were never to be trusted. There was always more beneath the surface.
Exhausted, I peeled off my gloves as sweat dripped down my face, each drop a testament to the grueling workout I had just endured.
A text notification caught my attention.
I grabbed my phone from the bench and noticed Eva’s name flashing across the screen.
Looking forward to tonight. Any hints on where you’re taking me? ;)
A slow grin spread across my face as I tapped out my response.
Wear something you can dance in, querida. Trust me, you’ll want to be comfortable.
I hit send and slipped the phone back into my pocket, already looking forward to the night ahead. Natalia had no idea what was coming.
“Buckle up, baby, because tonight’s gonna be one wild ride,” I said, flashing a grin as I pulled my sleek ride up to Club Salsa Fuego, the hottest spot in South Beach. “Forget those lame-ass clubs packed with ‘roided out douchebags and dry humping plastic bimbos.”
Natalia raised an elegant eyebrow, her full lips twisting into a mysterious smile as she surveyed the club’s exterior. Lights illuminated the vibrant red fa?ade, pulsing to the rhythm of a sensuous salsa melody that drifted through the open doors. “And what will I find here, Dante?”
I stepped out of the Maserati, my eyes never leaving hers, and opened the passenger door for her. “A real taste of Latin flavor, mi reina. Are you ready to show me your moves?”
She took my hand, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through my body as she gracefully exited the car. Her emerald dress hugged her curves in all the right places, and her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, enhancing her exotic beauty. My dick twitched in anticipation as I imagined those dark locks cascading over my pillow later tonight.
As we approached the entrance, the bouncer gave us a nod of recognition and stepped aside, letting us bypass the eager crowd waiting to get in. I felt Natalia’s hand tighten in mine as we stepped into the club’s dazzling lights and swirling colors.
The energy was electric, with vibrant salsa beats thumping through the speakers, moving bodies in perfect harmony. I led Natalia through the crowd, eager for what was to come.
I recognized a familiar waiter from my frequent visits. He caught my eye and gave a subtle nod, leading us to a secluded booth at the back. I knew this would be the perfect place for my plans.
“Would you like a drink?” I asked, sliding into the booth.
“A mojito, please,” Natalia said, her eyes sparkling.
I ordered two mojitos and leaned back, taking in the lively atmosphere. “Are you ready to dance, Eva?” I asked, reaching for her hand across the table.
She gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I’d love to, Dante, but it’s been a long time since I danced salsa.”
The waiter returned with our drinks, and I took a refreshing sip before setting the glass back on the table. “In that case, let’s warm up with a slower song. I wouldn’t want to lead you into a fast-paced dance and have you realize I’ve lost my rhythm.”
Natalia laughed, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I have a feeling you haven’t lost your touch, Dante.”
The music shifted to a slower, more romantic salsa tune, setting the perfect tone for our dance. I placed my hand on the small of her back, feeling her body mold to mine as we stepped onto the dance floor.
I guided Natalia through the basic steps, our bodies moving in perfect harmony with the rhythm. Despite her claimed rustiness, she followed my lead with fluid grace, her hips swaying seductively to the music.
The initial apprehension faded as we surrendered to the music, our steps growing more confident, our movements more daring. Our gazes locked, our eyes never wavering as we danced, the electricity between us crackling like the candles flickering on the nearby tables.
As the DJ played an up-tempo salsa song next, I spun Natalia gracefully, her dress floating around her like an emerald cloud. Near the song’s end, I pulled her close, our bodies moving in sync with the frantic rhythm. On the song’s final note, I dipped her, eliciting a gasp from her lips. I brought her back up, and our mouths collided in a passionate kiss fueled by the adrenaline of the dance.
The crowd erupted in applause and whistles, but I barely heard them. All I felt was the heat of Natalia’s body against mine, the taste of her lips on mine. She melted against me, her hands roaming my back as our kiss deepened, hot and urgent.
Breaking away, breathless and flushed, I said in her ear, “Let’s get out of here, mi reina. The night is still young, and I suspect it’s about to get even hotter.”
With a secret smile, Natalia took my hand, and we made our way through the cheering crowd, our steps never losing the salsa rhythm. I opened the door of the Maserati for her, and she slid inside, her scent lingering in the air as I walked around to the driver’s side.
The engine roared to life, and my mind was already spinning with the erotic possibilities that awaited us.
That dance was just the beginning.