Chapter 2
F allon
Captivating.
Charming.
Deadly.
Navarro was all those things and more, but even after laying eyes on the man, devouring his powerful physique with my eyes, nothing had changed.
The man deserved to die.
I watched as someone approached the bar, his sights set on Navarro. One of his soldiers frisked the older man, finally giving a nod he wasn’t carrying any weapon. While my curiosity was piqued, I remained where I was doing nothing more than observing.
Navarro was listening intently, yet not once did he look his visitor in the eye. Less than two minutes later, the Spaniard nodded to one of his men who handed the mystery guest an envelope.
I laughed softly to myself. A classic payoff for information. It would seem Navarro was here doing business after all.
With my drink in my hand, I moved through the crowd, not allowing my eyes to leave him even for a second. He remained at the bar, barely acknowledging the men who stood at his side. Dressed in a dark suit without a tie, he ruled the club as if he owned the establishment.
He didn’t.
His arrival in Mexico had provided the perfect avenue for my intentions.
But I would have gone anywhere if necessary.
While a guest in a foreign country, it was obvious the power he possessed simply by the reactions of the tourists and locals alike intending on enjoying a beautiful evening of drinking and dancing.
His casual attitude continued to irritate and fuel the anger that had begun to furrow the day I’d realized my sister had been forcibly taken from her apartment.
The threatening note had said it all. While I’d been a thousand miles away pretending to be some great artist, my baby sister had faced the horrible wrath of a past I barely remembered any longer.
While there were other players undoubtedly involved, Navarro had been tasked to hunt and destroy.
Brooke was an innocent soul, determined to bring light and life to those considered underprivileged.
She’d been driven into a war by our father, something I would never forgive him for.
Yet Navarro was entirely to blame for her disappearance.
My mind remained rattled from memories and visions, the stark reality of the family’s past claiming another victim.
As I moved closer, I studied the crowd, inching toward a group of inebriated men who obviously had no idea they were in the presence of a monster.
As I’d hoped, as soon as I stepped among the four of them, one asshole decided he’d take a chance and swing his arm around my waist, yanking me against him.
“Hey, beautiful. Where are you going? Come play with us.”
His words slurred, my immediate reaction was to want to kick him in the nuts, but I refrained from making a scene, although I shoved my hand against his chest, breaking his hold easily.
In my heels, I was taller than the jerk with perfect timing to assist my cause.
With a salacious smile on my face, I leaned in while keeping my voice loud enough Navarro could hear.
“You’re not worth my time. Sadly, my guess is you have a dick the size of a peanut.” Only when the obvious offense registered in his brain and he attempted to grab my arm did I react more violently.
I bent his wrist at an awkward angle, stopping just before I was able to snap his bones. The smile remained on my face even though my tone of voice held a clear indication I was not to be fucked with. “I suggest you back off unless you enjoy wearing a cast for months.”
The light in his eyes changed, something inside acknowledging he should do as I’d commanded. Huffing, he jerked his arm free, calling me a worthless bitch before his buddies shooed him away from the area.
Good move.
I wasn’t in the mood to take any shit.
As anticipated, Navarro had watched the display of power with clear amusement. He lifted his glass in a toast as I walked by.
I purposely ignored him, doing nothing more than tossing my long hair over my shoulder.
Game on.
There were four people between us as I leaned against the bar, but I sensed he continued watching me, likely thinking I could be his easy conquest for the night.
Little did he know what I had in mind.
Given the club was a popular tourist destination, there was no need for me to order another drink in Spanish. While I was fluent in several languages, I allowed the merciless man to believe I was just another American girl out for a good time. Perhaps even willing to engage in carnal activities.
“Vodka martini, extra dry. Four olives,” I told the bartender who gladly took my order. I finished the drink I’d purchased earlier, shoving the glass aside and glancing from one side of the bar to the other. I caught Navarro’s intense gaze, easily noticing his nostrils were flared.
The lure had been accepted.
Without even as much as offering a smile, I turned away as if bored.
During the two seconds of interaction, I’d captured the location of the weapons the men carried.
The three bodyguards had shoulder holsters, but given the slight bulge in Navarro’s jacket, I could easily assume he carried his weapon in his inside pocket.
If the intel I’d studied and memorized was any indication, his gun of choice was a Sig Sauer, a P226.
I knew my weapons. I’d spent time learning about various types of weaponry, learning to shoot while taking martial arts classes.
A requirement of my father. His insistence had always confused me, but given my respect for the sweet, gentle man, I’d agreed.
At least now I understood the reason he’d required his daughter to have the skills of an assassin.
I also reminded myself the man wasn’t the kindhearted soul who’d raised me, our lineage embroiled in criminal activity.
I’d thought he’d changed, refusing to partake in a world that had stolen the only woman he’d loved with all his heart. I guess I’d been wrong.
The skills had been tested only once, the man deciding to attack me discovering what suffering meant.
I drummed my fingers on the bar while stealing a quick look at Navarro. Long fingers were wrapped around his glass, his thumb idly sliding back and forth across the rim. The action was as sensual as the man.
The bartender was quick in filling my order, presenting the drink as if he’d created a masterpiece. I pulled the frilly toothpick into my fingers, closing my eyes while I tugged a single olive from the sharp end.
Navarro was watching, even pushing one of his soldiers aside so he was able to secure a clearer view.
While I’d dressed provocatively in a low-cut crimson dress that hugged every curve, I’d forgone the slutty look most girls were wearing in hopes I would garner more interest. Women usually fell at his feet, their eyes begging for his attention.
The thought was disgusting.
So far, it appeared I’d done everything right.
Only seconds later, the stench of intoxication floated behind me. The same jerk from before made the mistake of sliding next to me, pushing his sweaty body against mine.
“I don’t think you understood. You will dance with me, you little slut.”
I swallowed another sip, removing the toothpick to save the olives. Pulling back, I tossed the drink in the man’s face. Whether the creep knew it or not, he’d saved me from purposely enticing Navarro.
“I suggest you leave me alone,” I said, my tone holding more contempt than before.
The jerk acted as if he was going to place his hands on me again. Navarro was suddenly behind him, grabbing the asshole around the back of the neck and smashing his head against the bar. The loud thud was enough to disrupt everyone around us.
Partygoers backed away instantly, several gasps heard over the loud thumping music. The creep’s moans could also be heard. He was flailing his arms as Navarro ground his face into the wooden surface.
No one dared try to stop him.
Navarro was taller than I’d envisioned him, easily six and a half feet tall and a solid two hundred twenty pounds of rock-hard muscle.
However, when standing in heels, I could almost see eye to eye with him.
That was a distinct advantage I hoped troubled the man.
Navarro didn’t intimidate me in the least. Men were all the same, easily distracted by the allure of sexual domination.
He lowered his head, muttering something to the would-be attacker before tossing him aside as if nothing but a piece of trash.
During the interaction, the sleeves of his jacket had been pushed up by several inches, revealing tattoos on both hands crawling up his arms and disappearing under the thick material.
I felt a sudden urge, one that was far too depraved for the moment.
Wetness and heat pooled between my legs, my heart thudding rapidly in my chest. I was anxious, more so than I’d anticipated, but in studying the graphic art covering his strong arms, I found myself mesmerized instead of terrified.
I barely acknowledged his violent technique, instead shaking my head as if nothing but annoyed at the interruption. Navarro moved closer while keeping a decent distance, ordering another martini in Spanish.
As expeditious as the bartender had been earlier, he was even quicker given Navarro’s obvious command. Within thirty seconds, a fresh drink was placed in front of me not by the handsome bartender but by Navarro himself.
Sighing, I studied the glass briefly before lifting my head, doing my best to hold zero interest in my gaze. Yet there was something cathartic about facing the devil for the first time. His piercing eyes stripped me bare as if we’d already been intimate.
In the sparkling light accentuating the bar, his dark eyes seemed even more ominous, yet seductive at the same time. My body instantly reacted, my nipples peaking. If the corners of his full mouth upturning were any indication, he sensed I was attracted.
I was, but that meant nothing. I’d turn it into a useful tool.