Chapter 35
Sighing, I snuggled into my chair, the warmth and comfort surrounding me like a weighted blanket.
The wine was good, a Cabernet that Gavriel had brought over, rich and complex like the man himself.
My Kindle rested against my bare thighs as I scrolled through a particularly filthy scene involving ropes and begging.
Research, I told myself with a smirk, though Gavriel had proven quite the willing student already.
My stomach growled, reminding me that burning calories required replacing them. Three hours of dominating Gavriel early this morning had left me famished. I’d come home after he’d left, since I’d had some housework to do around here, which I’d finished much faster than I anticipated.
I set my Kindle down, wrapping myself in his discarded shirt.
He’d left it this morning, and it smelled like him, so he had now officially lost ownership.
My bare feet padded to the kitchen on the cool hardwood, and I realized for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel tense or stressed.
For a moment, I thought about sending him a salacious text, but when I looked at the time on the microwave, I realized he was just stepping into his meeting with his father and Don Juarez.
The marble counter was cool beneath my palms as I laid out sourdough bread, prosciutto, and that ridiculously expensive cheese Gavriel had insisted on buying me last week. The house was quiet except for the string quartet music playing from the speakers.
The crash came without warning. My front door splintered inward with a sound like a gunshot. Training kicked in before thought could form. I dropped to a crouch, reaching for the butcher block even as a silhouette filled my doorway.
"Senor Juarez sends his regards, puta," the man snarled. His accent was thick, but his intent was clear in the glint of metal in his hand.
I didn't waste breath responding. The slicer knife felt right in my hand—eight inches of steel, perfectly balanced. Dad had insisted on quality tools, whether for cooking or killing.
The intruder lunged at me, faster than his bulk suggested he could. I sidestepped, letting momentum carry him past me, scoring his arm with the blade as I went. Blood immediately bloomed through his sleeve.
"Fucking bitch," he hissed, circling now, more cautious.
"Is this the best Juarez could send?" I taunted, keeping the island between us. "One man? For little ol’ me?"
His eyes narrowed. "He wants to send a message."
"I'm not much for receiving," I replied, calculating distances and angles. Dad's voice echoed in my head: Never let them corner you, Elin. Control the space.
He feinted left, then came right, fast and brutal. I ducked under his grab, but his fist caught my shoulder, sending pain shooting down my arm. I rolled with it, came up behind him, and drove the knife into the soft spot beneath his ribs, angling upward toward his heart just as Dad had taught me.
The man stiffened, a surprised grunt escaping his lips. I twisted the blade and smiled in satisfaction as I felt the moment the resistance gave way.
"Juarez . . ." He gasped, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth as I lowered him to the floor. "He's watching. Always watching."
His eyes glazed over as death claimed him. I stood there, knife dripping crimson onto my kitchen tiles, the implications of his words settling like ice in my veins.
Gavriel wasn't due back for hours. The timing was too perfect. It couldn’t be a coincidence.
The Juarez meeting at the Azzaro compound would drag on, all false smiles and veiled threats dressed up as business negotiations.
I wiped the blade on the dead man's shirt and stepped carefully around the spreading pool of blood.
Always watching.
Rhea!
My hands didn't shake as I grabbed my phone. They never did after violence. Why, I didn’t know, but I was thankful for it right now.
People who freaked out made mistakes. The tremors would come later, in private, when no one could see.
I scrolled to Rhea's number and pressed call, scanning the kitchen for other signs of intrusion.
"Elin?" Her voice was tight, controlled in a way I recognized too well. Something was going on.
"Are you safe?" I asked, keeping my own voice steady.
"Define safe." A bitter laugh came through the phone, and my shoulders instantly tightened in worry. "Father's men are stationed outside my door. I'm not allowed to leave until after the meeting with Juarez is concluded."
"I’m sorry, what? He has you on house arrest? What for?"
"Protection, according to Daddy dearest." The venom in her tone could have dropped a man at twenty paces. "What happened? You never call during business hours."
I glanced at the cooling corpse on my kitchen floor. "Just checking in.”
“Elin—”
Not letting her continue, I pressed on. “Lock your bathroom door if you need privacy. If you need to get out, the east wall security cameras have a blind spot there. Gavriel made sure of it."
"I’m in the bathroom. You think I would have a conversation with you where they could hear?" There was a light chuckle.
I small smile spread my lips. “No. You’re too smart for that.”
“Now, why are you really calling?”
Blood spread out onto the tiles under the asshole who’d made the mistake of coming into my home uninvited. “Had a guest I wasn’t expecting. Needed to see if you’d received any. Sounds like you are having a party over there.”
“You having drinks with your guest?”
“He’s not talking anymore. Just staring off into space.”
I heard the smile in her voice when she said, “Well, I bet you let him have it. I don’t know what he expected, coming over uninvited.”
“Some people never learn, Rhea.”
A pause. "Elin, be careful. Something's not right."
"When is it ever? Call me if you need anything. I have some calls to make."
“Thank you, Elin.”
I ended the call and went to call Gavriel, but knew he was in a meeting. Better to call and interrupt Harley standing guard than Gavriel. When I called, he answered on the first ring with his usual drawl. "Yeah?"
"All good, but I need a cleaner."
There was a beat of silence. "What kind of mess?"
"The permanent kind. In my kitchen."
"Juarez’s men?"
"One of his messengers. But he implied they're watching me."
Harley swore softly. "Twenty minutes. Don't touch anything else."
"I need eyes on my perimeter too. If Juarez is watching—"
"Already on it. Stay put until we clear it." Harley's voice turned serious. "Stay strapped until we figure out how deep this goes."
After hanging up, I texted Gavriel:
Elin: Someone broke in. Handled it. One of Juarez's men. We need to talk.
Elin: Harley said he’s on his way for cleanup.
I didn't expect an immediate response. In that meeting room, checking his phone would be a sign of weakness. The Azzaros never showed weakness, especially not in front of the Juarez cartel.