Chapter Nine Mendoza
Manuel Mendoza peered at the blackened desolation of his once thriving trafficking camp with his upper lip curled in disgust, surveying the construction workers scrambling around the land.
It had been one fucking week since those cocksuckers had stormed what should have been an impenetrable fortress.
His first act after the fires were extinguished was to put a bullet in the head of the man in charge of his security.
Once that was done, he’d had his remaining men search the compound for his Roja.
Just picturing her beautiful red hair and creamy white skin sent an ache through his groin.
He had beaten her within an inch of her life, but he knew he was justified in his actions.
The cunt had called out another man’s name when he was fucking her.
After everything he had done for her, for her to betray him like that… she deserved the violent beating.
When the search of the compound came up empty, he remembered destroying his bedroom in a rage. He had intended for no other man to ever have her—and now she was in the hands of the people who had stormed his compound.
If she’d lived.
He clung to the hope that she hadn’t. For if she was alive, the moment he learned where she was he was going after her. She was his, and she would die by his hands like she should have before.
“Lo siento for the interruption, boss.” It was the sniveling voice of one of his soldiers.
Mendoza jerked his gaze over his shoulder. “Didn’t I make it perfectly clear that I was not to be disturbed?” he snarled.
The man’s face paled. “Uh, yeah, but, uh, I think this is something you will want to see.”
“What is it?” Mendoza hissed.
With a shaky hand, the man thrust out a few black and white pictures. “I have some friends at the border. I had asked them to be on the lookout for any American girls who fit Roja’s description.”
Mendoza snatched the pictures out of his hand.
“I weeded out the ones that couldn’t possibly be her. There’s a few who have potential. Of course, they’re black and white, so that makes it harder to look for her hair.”
After staring at two of the photos, he chucked them to the ground. He had every inch of Roja memorized, so he knew when the breasts were too large or small or the face too round.
He grunted with frustration as he came to the last photograph.
When he peered down at it, a mixture of hope and anger filled him.
Although the image wasn’t completely clear, he knew without a shadow of a doubt it was his Roja.
But as soon as he had identified her, rage coiled through him at the sight of her with a strange man.
Was this the one whose name she had said?
“Find out everything you can about this man.”
“But we don’t have anything to go on. Not a license plate and I’m sure if they were fleeing, they used fake passports.”
Mendoza narrowed his eyes. “I gave you an order.”
The man paled for a second time before swallowing hard. “Yes, sir.”
When he was once again alone, Mendoza gathered his scattered thoughts. He loathed unfinished business. First, he would rebuild his camp. Every day that went by without business was money out of his pocket. Taking care of Roja could wait until he was back on his feet.
In the end, she wasn’t going anywhere. When he didn’t come after her at first, she could have her false sense of security. But then he would track her down.
He would have her tight pussy around his cock one last time before he cut her beating heart from her chest.
Roja. Was. Fucking. His.