Epilogue
SANTIAGO
The Intervention
Ican’t believe Sophie Clere has asked me to dance with her.
She is a goddess. The one woman Los Angeles desires above all others and the most elusive.
I have attempted on many occasions to engineer a meeting with her.
A chance encounter in a restaurant. A gala evening, or a charity event.
But she is so heavily guarded that I never get close.
Until tonight. Until she walked toward me and stared me straight in the eye with an expression of lust I would be a fool to ignore.
She must have realized I am a powerful man who is worthy of her attention. She took her time, but she obviously got there in the end.
The guy with her doesn’t stand a chance against me. Then again, these pretty boys never do. Women like Sophie desire a real man, and I am more than up to the job.
I park Josephine for later pleasure. One I am anticipating and savoring like a fine wine. Tonight, she will learn what it is to be mine. My slave. My toy. My indulgence.
But now there is a more attractive proposition in my sight, and as I take Sophie into my arms, every eye in the room is trained on us. It’s as if we are the new power couple. The one everyone wants to be associated with. The first names on the guest list.
In dancing with her which means my public profile has risen to stratospheric heights, and I have arrived—socially speaking. This is my catapult into the big time, and I will not mess this up.
I’m respectful as I slide one arm around her narrow waist and hold her hand that sparkles with diamonds. Her eyes penetrate mine; I don’t miss the hunger in them.
I lick my lip, running my tongue along it, promising her more pleasure than a body could stand if she only gives the right signals.
Her whisper against my ear causes my balls to ache, her tone sultry.
“We meet at last, Santiago.”
“It’s been a long time coming.”
Pleasure is evident in her soft laugh, and her voice is seductive as she grips my hand a little tighter.
“You have been avoiding me.”
“Never.”
“It doesn’t seem that way.”
“I can assure you, if I had known you were interested, I would have reciprocated.”
“Interested?”
Her low chuckle is lighting desire in my entire body, and she whispers smoothly, “What can you offer me, Santiago? Why should I choose you?”
My heart is pounding; sweat is running down my back as my plans change in a second.
Josephine no longer of interest.
“Because I can give you something, no other man can.”
“I’m listening.”
I tighten my hold. My hand drops lower to the base of her spine, my cock pressing against the sheer fabric of her dress.
“Pleasure, pain, deprivation. Anything you want, I can get for you. No matter how twisted your imagination is, I am your man for that.”
“But what if I want the fairy tale, Santiago? Perhaps I want a man to sweep me off my feet and make me feel special. To woo me, to care for me, to treasure me. Are you the man for that job, or should I carry on searching for my prince?”
“I can be all of those things. I am extremely adaptable.”
“I heard of your reputation.”
“Good news obviously travels fast.”
I am racking my brains to place anyone who could have spoken about me. It appears my goddess prefers my blend of wicked depravity. I don’t do the fairy tale, merely the horror story, and her talk of otherwise doesn’t fool me for a second.
“Perhaps we could continue this discussion later; do you have a place we can go?”
I’m outspoken. I sense she will love that about me, and her words hitch on her smile.
“What do you have in mind?”
My hand slips lower, my loaded gaze powering dark intent into hers, and I give her what she is obviously gagging for.
“I will fuck you raw and then whip you so hard I draw blood. Then I will fuck your mouth until you choke.”
That should do it. I sense her interest growing, and then before I can continue, she pulls away and cracks her palm against my face, so hard my head falls to the side.
“How dare you!”
She yells so loudly heads turn in confusion to face us and before I can recover, those fucking men with her fall on me like lions.
The huge one grabs my arms behind my back while the pretty boy punches me hard in the gut, causing me to choke, my face still burning with the imprint of Sophie’s hand. They manhandle me to the exit, the crowd parting as we go, and I scream for my men, “Where the fuck are my guards?”
From the corner of my eye, I notice them in an altercation with a man and a woman who looks very familiar. It’s chaos, and as my head spins, I struggle against the pain.
We reach the entrance to the hotel, and the huge guy punches me full in the face.
My nose breaking, causing me to scream in pain.
He kicks me hard against the stomach, and the other guy lifts me with a strength he sure hid well, and as I fly onto the sidewalk outside, my head cracks against the stone.
I have never experienced pain like this, but I have no time to process that as my car screeches to a stop beside me and my guards bundle me inside.
“Josephine.”
Despite my pain, I glance around me, noting she is not sitting where she should be.
I tap angrily on the screen between me and the driver, and as it lowers, I scream with rage, “Where the fuck is my slave?”
“Gone, boss.”
The smooth, surly tone of my driver only antagonizes me more.
“What do you mean, gone? Find her, bring her here where she belongs.”
The throbbing in my head won’t go away, and as blood spills onto my clothes, I raise my hand to my broken nose.
Fuck, I’m a mess. My mind is screwed as I struggle to focus, the images blurring as my head pounds, my stomach doubled over as I struggle to breathe. I need a doctor, an operation perhaps, but I need my slave more because she will bear the full force of my rage for this.
“Turn around. Go back for her and haul her out at gunpoint if you must.”
“It’s too late, boss. She was seen leaving in another car. We don’t have the license plate. She’s gone.”
I have never experienced anger like this in my life, and it curls around me like a dark force. Rage clouds my vision as I picture Josephine getting away for a second time, or is a third? I hate that I’m losing count.
My hand flys to my pocket, malevolence dancing with my vengeance as I search for the device that will end her life.
I’m not worried about the distance between us.
Technology has advanced significantly over the years, and Josephine is about to discover exactly what running has cost her this time - her life.
My fingers close on nothing.
What the hell?
Frantically, I search every pocket I own but the fob is nowhere to be found.
What the fuck? Where the hell is it?
Anger clouds my vision as I face the fact that she got away – again.
I attempt to breathe, to refocus because my priorities are now clear.
First, I get fixed up. Then I hunt Josephine down.
I will imprison her and make her pay for running away from me a second time.
This time I won’t be so loving either. Her future is set.
And thirdly, I will teach Sophie Clere what happens when you make a fool of Santiago De Soura.
She will pay for this and will be begging me for mercy by the time I wrap my rope around her neck and squeeze what’s left of the life out of her.
I am so busy planning my revenge, I’m shocked when the driver cusses.
“Fuck.”
“What is it?”
“Roadblock.”
“Deal with it!”
I almost scream the words, and as he applies the brakes, I fall forward, my head hitting the metal of the screen.
“You fucking imbecile.”
I yell but before I can recover my thoughts, the door swings open and rough hands pull me from the car.
The sound of a gun chamber clicking against the back of my head stills my breath, and a low, husky whisper hits me like the curse of the devil.
“Santiago De Sauro. You are hereby sentenced to death with no right to appeal.”
“Who are you?”
I’m guessing I can buy my way out of this obvious attempt at blackmail and add, “Name your price.”
“No appeal.”
The whisper slithers through my veins like a poisonous python, and I glance up, my soul shivering at the menacing figures surrounding me.
Skeleton masks cover the lower parts of their faces. Black leather with an angel’s wings tells me my fate, and my heart pounds triple fast.
“Angel.”
My voice croaks as one of them steps forward, then another, then another, all crouching to their knees as they stare malevolently into my eyes.
“You upset a friend of ours. You will pay the price.”
I swallow hard. “Come on, guys. We know the score. I stay out of your business and you stay out of mine. It’s the rules we agreed on.”
A knife blade flashes in the glare of their headlights, and one of them holds it against my throat, the gun still trained on my head.
“Josephine says hi by the way.”
I stare in astonishment; the pieces fall into place.
They mean my Josephine. That bitch double-crossed me.
“You can have her.”
I attempt to bargain my way to freedom.
“I won’t even breathe the same air as her, or her father. They are officially no longer of interest to me. She’s won. She’s free. Is that what it will take?”
He peers closer, his eyes bright, deadly, demonic, and yet flashing with darkness and an excitement that terrifies me.
“No appeal.”
Two words that seal my fate, and as the blade swipes across my neck, it takes a moment for me to realize what’s happened.
I stare in horror as the blood spills from it.
Like red rain onto the stone under my knees.
I blink once, attempt to drag a breath, unable to.
My organs crashing one by one as one face taunts me as my last vision.
That fucking bitch Josephine. How dare she win.
Angel
Santiago falls face down, and I stand along with my brothers, the cool night air offering a welcome breeze.
“Fucking bastard.”
Zac connects his boot to the victim and as he falls forward, Havoc hisses, “Fucking creep. That was a long time coming.”
“What are we doing with the body?”
I direct my question to our guest who replaces the gun into his jacket.
“Any preference?”
Snake turns to Ryder, who points to the tipper truck resting on the other side of the roadblock.
“The plan still stands.”
His tone is dark, his mind calculating, and once again I thank God for the opportunity to work with this man again.
I owe him so much and will spend the rest of my life paying him back. Not that he realizes who I am. Then again, knowing him, he always did.
I nod to my men standing silently, patiently, waiting for instruction. We step back as they haul Santiago off the ground and effortlessly propel him into the tipper truck.
Sinbad sighs as he retrieves the keys and nods to Atlas. “We’re up.”
They move to the truck and as they head off toward the highway, currently under construction, I’m confident that Santiago will spend his death as part of the infrastructure.
We turn our attention to his driver, who stands, his back against the car, his interest illuminated by the glow from his cigar.
“Thanks, man.”
Titan nods his appreciation, and the driver grinds the cigar into the dirt.
“Anytime.”
He glances between us all and shakes his head. Confused as the rest of them. Wondering who the fuck we are.
“The agreement still stands.”
Ghost addresses the driver, who nods. “You can count on that.”
With one last smile, he steps into his car, and we stand back, allowing him to reverse out of here.
Harry will take over Santiago’s operation. We have worked with him on that for several months already. All of Santiago’s men were fully aware of what a psychopath he was and will be celebrating their liberation tonight.
I turn to Ryder, who is staring at me with many questions in his eyes, and I chuckle behind my mask. The great Ryder King thrives on this shit and I love how he respects our wish for anonymity.
“It’s good to meet you again, sir.”
I offer him my hand, and for a second, a gleam of understanding dawns, and he nods, a small smile on his lips.
“You too, soldier.”
He turns to his right-hand man.
“We should head back to the others.”
We watch them mount their Harleys and, with a final wave, head off into the night.
Havoc shakes his head.
“I fucking love those guys.”
“Me too, brother.”
I turn to mine.
“Thanks guys. We should also head home. We have a busy day tomorrow.”
As we leave the scene of our crime, I am confident no more will ever be spoken of it.
Ryder has a habit of covering his tracks well.
It’s an ability I wish I had the key to knowing, but for now, I’m content to rule my kingdom in a very different way.
I’m confident Sophie will receive her gift in the morning, along with the usual flowers.
For a second, I allow my mind to linger on her. Just for a second. No more than that.
As the bike shudders beneath me, I grip the handlebars and blow out a breath. Fuck, I love my life, but nothing compares to the freedom The Wild Angels gives me, and I pray to God that will never change.
* * *