CHAPTER 16 #3
“After that day, my father started taking me to every country, every meeting, anywhere he went. He’d bring me along and ask me to solve problems for him.
At first, it was fun. I was traveling the world, and I was making my dad proud.
But one day, about a year after I started helping him, we were in a meeting in France, and one of his associates made him angry.
My father took out his gun, shot the man in the head, and just continued the meeting. ”
“Fuck…” Damián breathes.
“Yep. No one even flinched… So, after that, I stopped focusing on the numbers and researched everything I could about the routes until I found out what the cargo actually was. That’s when I realized I was helping them smuggle drugs, weapons, and… people.”
“Mi cielo…” Damián caresses my cheek. “You said you used to go there to play… How old were you when this happened?”
“I was thirteen.”
Damián’s eyes go wide with absolute horror.
“Yeah.” I chuckle, though it’s entirely devoid of humor. “Let’s just say my childhood ended that afternoon.”
“I read in your file that at the age of fourteen, you went to study in Switzerland. How did you get away?”
“I lied. I told my father I was too green for the real business, but that I could be an incredible asset to him if he sent me to boarding school. I told him I wanted to get a degree in Business with a master’s in International Logistics.”
“That was smart, nene.”
“It kept me away. I still had to help him from time to time, but I used my workload as an excuse to only take on the hardest cases. I also used that time to study computer science. I learned how to crack into his networks, pull the intel I needed, and use that information to make people disappear from my father’s kill lists.
That’s how I met Zara. I saved her family, and after shipping them to safety, she stayed with me. ”
“Until he called you to come back?” Damián interrupts gently.
“No, I came back on my own. Three years ago, Rafael went on a massive murder spree, trying to prove to my father that he had what it took to take over, and I knew he had to come back and remind my dad why he picked me in the first place. It was the only way I could keep Rafael on a leash.”
“Is that why you treat him the way you do?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, the only way to keep Rafael from gaining power and to keep my father proud is through a constant display of violence and humiliation.” I let out a breath, my fingers curling around his arm. “Are you angry I didn’t tell you the truth?”
“Not at all. Given your family, I completely understand why you had to be cautious. But… I do feel guilty.”
“Why would you feel guilty? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Oliver, I kept shoving you against walls, grinding against you… Groping you,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “If I had known it was your first time—”
“I love the pushing and the groping,” I interrupt instantly, and my cheeks turn hot. “Please, for the love of God, do not let that stop.”
Damián laughs, leans down, and gives me a quick kiss. “I spent so many nights sick with jealousy, thinking you were out hooking up with other men.”
“Yeah… I thought about telling you my drug benders were fake, but I couldn’t exactly explain that over a text message right before going off the grid. I promise I’ll let you know if I have to stage any more.”
“Please do. And also if you can—Wait…” He pulls back slightly, narrowing his eyes. “So back at the club, when you said I was in your ‘top ten’… you lied?”
I bite my lip, completely unable to hide my smile. “I mean, you are number one… and only.” I look up at him through my eyelashes, shrugging innocently. “And number one is still technically in the top ten. So I didn’t lie.”
“You’re evil.”
“I think you just pronounced ‘adorable’ wrong,” I say, and he laughs.
He laughs so happily and carefree that it’s mesmerizing. I am so captivated by him. So much so that even now, just watching him talk, laugh, and casually touch me, my mind is still blown that I actually slept with him.
“So, how about you?” I ask, pulling myself up so I’m sitting directly in front of him, my legs tangled over his.
“About what?”
“Well, I just told you my lovely family horror story.” I lean forward, pressing my palms to his chest. “Tell me a horror story about yours.”
Damián leans his head back against the couch. “Well… my mother used to sing Chayanne songs to me when I was a kid.”
I snort, smacking his shoulder playfully. “That’s not a horror story.”
“You should hear her singing,” he says in the most serious tone. “It is terrifying.”
I laugh, and as my gaze drops, I zero in on three scars near his ribs. I reach out and trace them with my fingertips. “What happened to you here?”
“I got shot in Bogotá,” he says so casually that it sounds like he’s recommending a movie, not talking about getting shot at.
“Here?” I ask, trailing a line on his shoulder.
“That is a stab wound. Hunting knife.” He stretches his leg and points at a group of scars on his calf. “Those are shards from a bomb. I was too close when it went off.”
Ouch…
“That sounds super painful,” I say.
“It was.”
I move my hand to a pale, straight line near his tanned abs. “And here?”
“Slash wound. Machete.”
“Oh, my God! Is there any type of weapon you haven’t been attacked with?”
“Mmmmm… alien laser beam.”
“That doesn’t exist.”
“Maybe that’s why I haven’t been attacked with one of those.”
I laugh, and my fingers reach the scar in his arm. “And this? Is this also a stab wound with a mythical katana?”
“That was my sister, Fernanda.” Damián laughs. “When we were kids, I stole her doll. While she was chasing me, I crashed into a mirror and cut myself.”
I pause, my hand still resting on his chest as I look up at him. “So it was you, not Fernanda.”
“Semantics,” he says, and for some reason, I absolutely burst out laughing. “Oh, you want to laugh?”
Damián curls his arms around me. With one of his super-MMA-spy moves, he hauls me off his lap and tosses me backward onto the couch. Before I can catch my breath, he climbs on top of me and pins me down into the cushions, which only makes me laugh harder.
And it’s here, wrapped in his arms, in this exact moment, that I realize things in my life are going to have to change. Because no matter what happens to me, I will do absolutely everything in my power to protect what I gained today.
— ¤ —
After three days of planning my next steps, I ask Silvio to meet me in my room. And now I am pacing the floor, building the nerve for what I am about to do.
You are doing this for Damián.
You are doing this for his family and all the other Harknetts.
I keep reminding myself, so I don’t chicken out.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
I hurry over to the couch and lounge back so it looks like I’ve been relaxing there all afternoon. “Come in.”
Silvio opens the door, hovering awkwardly in the frame. “You wanted to see me?”
“Close the door. Sit down.”
He takes the seat opposite me, his knee immediately starting to bounce.
But before he can even open his mouth to ask why he’s here, I draw the Glock from my waistband and level it between his eyes.
Silvio freezes, and the color drains from his face.
“Either I kill you right now, or I go after your family,” I say, with zero emotion. “Pick.”
“Me. Shoot me,” he answers instantly, his entire body trembling.
“Is that the only leverage Rafael has on you?” I ask, keeping the gun steady. “Your family?”
“Yes?”
“No gambling debts? No money? Nothing else?”
“No—no, sir,” he stutters.
“What if I told you I could keep them safe? Safe from Rafael, safe from everyone in this family. Would you betray him?”
His eyes snap up, locking onto mine. “I would do anything you ask.”
I shift my grip on the gun, pressing the cold barrel directly against his forehead. “Would you die right now?”
“Yes.”
I study him for a long moment, searching his eyes, and I can tell he is telling the truth. So, I lower the gun.