19. Dante
19
DANTE
I stare at Joseph as I try and process this clusterfuck of information.
“Gomez is dead.” Surely, he’s not implying it’s suspicious. The guy was a hundred pounds overweight—a walking heart attack waiting to happen. Besides, his son isn’t one to make waves. He’ll carry on the supply chain with his processing plants and honor our contract for as long as we tell him to. If not, I’ll send a couple of men down to Colombia to show him exactly what our back-out clause looks like.
As for Sanders, he's partying too hard again. Last month he woke up on a fucking cargo ship bound for Australia. I've joined him myself on a couple of occasions… Since then, I’ve learned some self-control. The guy's a wildcard, but he always delivers. That's why I tend not to give him to o much shit about it.
Joseph seems agitated though, and it’s not like him. We’ve done three tours in Afghanistan, and I’ve never seen him as edgy as this. I snap my belt together and readjust myself discreetly.
Think, Dante. Think.
I'm still hard. I’m still reeling from the conversation in the car. I've never laid my heart on the line like that for anyone, but it felt like a compulsion I couldn't quit. I had to have that guarantee from her. We’re skirting ever closer to the truth about me. I needed to seal the deal before my duplicity is exposed. Somehow, I’ll make her forgive me for driving her brother to suicide and for being the man she’s despised for all these years. The odds are stacked against me, but I'll do whatever it takes.
Get your head back in the game, Dante.
Serious shit has gone down.
Damage limitation is required.
The timing is suspicious, I’ll give him that. The final negotiations for the New York deal are taking place next week. If the Italians get wind of a potential destabilization in our organization, they'll yank the play from the table. We’re coming to this partnership strong, but it’s based on our ability to deliver quality merchandise, as well as the skill of our men in annihilating the competition.We need this deal to cement our credibility after the Garcia fiasco…
“I want a team of fifty in New York by the end of play today,” I tell him, reeling off my orders like I’m in total fucking control as usual. “If this is a ploy to derail the deal, I want our men there armed and ready. I want you to oversee it personally. Get Nicolas and his men on stand-by in Miami. Send fifty more to help Sanders’ people. We need to track him down. If this is a declaration of war, we need all heads in the game. I’ll take ten to Colombia with me.”
“That’ll leave twenty or so here. You okay with that?”
I appreciate the question. There’s no point in concealing my interest in Eve Miller any longer. I never left her bedroom yesterday, which is quite a turnaround for a workaholic like me.
“Fine,” I say, yanking the door open again. My angel will be safest here until I return .
Eve is still sitting where I left her, her long legs tucked under her.
“Come,” I say, motioning impatiently at her.
She does as I ask, sliding over to my seat and stepping out of the vehicle. She gazes up at me shyly, and, once again, there are unspoken questions in her eyes.
“Leave the car,” I tell Joseph, taking her by the arm, and pulling her into step with me. “I’m heading back to the house. I’ll be ready to leave in an hour. Make sure my gear is charged and loaded. We’ll finalize the plans as soon as I’ve made this call.”
Joseph nods, and turns back toward the barracks, his eyes flickering over Eve as he passes. My hand tightens and she whimpers in protest. Keep your eyes to yourself, Joseph. Remember what I did to Manuel…
God knows how many times he’s caught me in compromising positions with women over the years. I haven’t exactly been subtle, and I’ve never minded until now. Then again, I’ve never been burdened with these lava flows of jealousy until Eve came into my life. I’ll kill any man who tries to get close to her, including my closest ally and friend.
“Dante, what’s wrong?” Her soft voice is tentative, yet insistent. She’s my inquisitive angel, like always .
“Business,” I say tersely, marching her up the driveway. “I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone our sightseeing tour for another day.”
“Are you going back to Colombia?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“It depends.”
On how much of a fucking mess there is to unpick, and how long it’s going to take to talk my brother down from a swift and bloody vengeance.
If we’re under attack, we need to be smarter than that. We need to consolidate and strategize. Joseph and I have spent the last decade building and training an army more lethal than a Navy SEAL’s team. They’re under my command to deploy with devastating effect whenever I fucking feel like it.
I shoot Eve a sideways glance. The selfish bastard part of me feasts on the pale cheeks and the unshed tears in her eyes. My angel is going to miss me.
I tug her to a halt and spin her around. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
She nibbles at her lower lip before bringing her thumbnail up to join the party. “What you said before, in the car…”
“Did I mean it?” I tug her thumb away. “Yes, I meant every goddamn word. There is no place on earth you can hide from me Our souls are bound forever.”
A soft cry escapes her mouth.
Too much.
“I’ve shocked you,” I state bluntly.
“I never figured you as the romantic type.”
Only she could think that… Only she could believe in the go od when there’s nothing left but hate and deliverance.
“Stay out of trouble,” I say roughly, raising her hand to my lips and lavishing each knuckle with my affection.
“Why break the habit of a lifetime,” she says with a sigh. “I was a good girl before I met you.”
“So fucking good, and so fucking corruptible.” I flash her a wicked grin. “Before I go, I want you to have something…” I reach into my back pocket and pull out a small flick knife.
She gasps and tries to twist away from me. “Dante, no—”
“Take it,” I grit out, unleashing the blade, turning it one-eighty and thrusting the handle into her palm. “If anyone comes at you, aim and twist.”
She won’t look at the knife, let alone close her delicate fingers around it. She’s desperate to deny any connection with the weapon and me.
I’m tempted to take her in my arms and fuck away all her conflict again; to make her realize that she’s here in my harsh reality now, and that my obsession comes with a price on her head. But instead, I take back the knife, fold the blade away and tuck it down the front of her bra. Her body jerks as soon as the cold metal hits her skin.
“Steady,” I murmur, my fingers tracing a line through the warm canyon between her breasts. So tempting, so inviting… Could I find my salvation in this body? Is it enough?
For a fleeting moment I consider the unthinkable—of turning my back on the business, boarding my aircraft, and disappearing into the horizon with Eve by my side. But it’s a pipe dream. A fairytale of delusion. My bloodlust will never allow a happy ending to happen for us. I live for the kill. It’s my only release. It’s my way of assuaging the demons from my past.
“I could never use that on a person,” I hear her say.
It’s the talk of the uninitiated. The untainted. It makes me want her even more. This knife is the antithesis of her safe, orderly world.
“You’d be surprised at what you’re capable of when faced with the alternative.” I skim her lips with my thumb. The moisture there is making my dick sing. “Keep it with you at all times. Even at night. Say it, Eve.”
“I’ll keep it with me always.”
I nod. “Good.” My cell starts ringing. It’s Emilio. “I need to take this,” I tell her, pointing at the house. “Go inside. Wait for me there.”
She backs away, scared by the sudden stillness on my face. She thinks she’s angered me by being ungrateful about my gift. I wish I could tell her it isn’t so. That it’s an instinctive reaction whenever my brother reaches out to me.
I let the call ring and ring. I’m too distracted by the sight of her perfect ass is it hurries up the steps and disappears inside.
“Where the fuck have you been!” screams Emilio when I eventually let him in.
He’s wired.
My brother doesn’t do calm and rational. His reaction to shit hitting the fan is to get as fucked-up as possible and make stupid, rash decisions. I’m not in the mood for his bullshit today.
“Give me the lowdown on Gomez. Who found the body?”
“His wife. She witnessed the whole thing. Three men walked into a restaurant and fired their bullets into the back of his head. Told the bitch they were sending a message. They forgot to sign the card, though.”
A professional job.
“Who else in New York knows about the deal?”
“No one, unless the Italians have been shooting their mouths off about it. What about the Garcias? Any surviving relatives I should know about? I know how selective you are about your targets these days.”
“Grayson and I dealt with every single one of those motherfuckers. Tell me about Sanders.” Eve’s father was a one off, Emilio. Don’t push me. My bite is far worse than my bark.
“Left to meet a contact in Port Miami at nine p.m. Never returned home. No body. Nothing… I’ve just spoken with Nicolas. He’s on the case, stateside.” There’s a long pause. “I want your ass back here, Dante. We need to figure this out together.”
I resist the eye-roll that normally accompanies Emilio’s attempts to yank me into line. My attention is being drawn to the balcony of Eve’s room. She’s standing there, watching me, looking like the total fucking angel that she is. She’s wearing another white dress, her long, dark hair framing her pale face, the curtain billowing out behind her like a pair of goddamn wings.
“My flight leaves in an hour,” I tell him sharply, moving toward the house. “Fifty men are on their way to New York. Fifty to Florida.”
“Let’s hope they’re as good as you say they are, and not just idiotas with machine guns.”
“Are you questioning my training methods or my authority?” I kick open the front door with unnecessary force.
“Maybe both. Time will tell. You took your eye off the ball, baby brother. You should have seen this coming.”
I pause, lamenting my inability to reach inside this fucking cell and rip out his throat. I’m no fool. I know that Eve and my business are a match made in hell.
What I don’t need is for my junkie dickhead of a brother to spell it out for me.
I leave her exhausted and naked, sprawled out across the bed. She fell into a deep sleep after I took her hard, spiraling us both up to paradise for a few short, breath-taking moments. Her long legs are lying tantalizingly apart. I can see my cum pooling at the top of her thighs. Mine, I think fiercely. I’ve marked her in the most intimate of ways.
Without thinking, I step back into the room. I’m so close to removing my clothes and fucking her again, but duty and obligation are tugging on my leash.
Joseph is standing in my hallway waiting for me. He’s dressed in black fatigues with a loaded holster strapped to his chest. He hands me my gun as I reach the bottom stair. I cock the muzzle and check the magazine.
“First team departed ten minutes ago,” he informs me. “Second team leaves in five. The boats are transporting them thirty miles east to Rodera. There’s a jet fueled and waiting for them there.”
“And yet you’re still here?” I raise a questioning eyebrow at him. It’s not like him to disobey a direct order.
“I’m going with you to Colombia.” The stubborn jut of his jaw tells me I don’t have a choice in the matter. “Something doesn’t feel right. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“You think too much,” I say, waving away his concerns. “Who’s staying here?”
“Ramirez. He’s the commanding officer.” I nod my approval. “I’m leaving a solid team here with him: Santo, Sebastian, Mateo and a couple of promising younger guys…and Manuel.”
Not that fucker.
“How’s his face?” I say grimly, picking up my laptop and checking the charge on the satellite phone.
“Healing.”
“Well, he knows what to do if he wants it to stay that way.”
“I think he got the message, loud and clear.”
Joseph needed to pull me off him yesterday. My fists were playing judge and jury again. As far as I’m concerned, he got off easy. A shattered cheekbone is a small price to pay for talking to Eve without my permission.
We travel to the landing strip together. My aircraft is ready and waiting, and my men are busy loading up weapons and gear. My pilot, Tomas, raises a hand in greeting as we approach the steps. He’s an integral part of my team—a tough talking, no-shit-taking South African who scalped the last guy who looked at him funny. I’m an experienced pilot, but I prefer to leave the flying to Tomas on these occasions. Besides, I need to talk tactics with Joseph for the next fifteen hours straight.
“Flight path is all set,” Tomas announces, striding up to us.
“Let’s get the last of the equipment onboard and go. I left a beautiful woman in my bed, and I’d like to return to her, sooner rather than later. ”
Tomas grins at me. “As you wish, Mr. Santiago. If only every man could be as lucky.”
“I don’t pay you to fuck, I pay you to fight,” I say mildly. “Joseph, what’s the latest on Sanders?”
“I’ve reached out to the other cartels but no one’s talking.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
Joseph grimaces. “It’s a dead end. Everyone’s running scared since we terminated the Garcias.”
“Someone must know something. What about his women?”
“They’ve not seen him… All four of them.”
“Fucking hell, he’s worse than I used to be. Let’s talk more on the plane. Tomas, we’re departing in five.”
“You’re the boss.”
Damn right I am.
I make my way up the aircraft’s steps with Joseph trailing in my wake, shouting at my men to finish up and get onboard.
Is Eve awake yet? Is she already in the shower, washing my scent and my cum from her body? Christ, I need to get a hold of these thoughts. It’s business or nothing for the next few days, just until this mess is sorted, and the New York deal is in the bag.
I’ll satisfy my lust for Eve Miller when I’m done.