16. Daniela
I pull up at the closed gates and climb off the motorcycle I’d rented at the airport. Traveling economy didn”t have the same perks as flying on a private jet with Matheus. However, this way, no one knows I’m here.
Not even Blanco.
My father’s not stupid, though. I suspect he knew I’d head straight to Sicily.
I tug my helmet off, ruffle my fingers through my hair to fix it, and wander over to the armed guard.
“I’m reporting back to base,” I announce, staring through the cast iron bars, my pulse thrumming.
He digs a phone out of his jacket pocket, taps the screen, and holds it in front of my face. The subtle noise it makes tells me he’s taken a picture.
I frown. “What the fuck?”
“Pre-approval is mandatory, signora,” he says in a no-nonsense Italian accent.
We stand off in silence for what feels like an eternity, and then his phone beeps. After reading the message, he shouts over to the second guy, telling him to open the gates.
Exhaling quietly, I put my helmet on again and return to the motorcycle. It doesn”t take long to speed through the grounds and park beside the villa.
Now I’m at the Souza mansion, my chest isn’t as tight as it had been these past twenty-four hours. Probably because it’s so peaceful by the coast, or maybe knowing Matheus is nearby makes me feel better.
He’s here. I know he is.
I glance over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of the huge mansion through the trees. In the darkness, lights twinkle from within the thick stone walls and a moonlit rooftop cuts through the navy sky with sharp lines.
I have happy memories attached to this place, which is rare for me. Me and happiness don”t go hand in hand. Yet the sensation of warmth I get when the wall mounted screen recognizes my handprint and the door unlocks lights me up inside.
If I could stab the bright bubble I’m floating in and throw myself back into darkness, I would. But there’s too much at stake for silly heart flutters and daydreams.
Moving further inside, a blanket of silence follows my light footfall. I’m guessing The Covenant are hard at work executing the people responsible for shooting André.
Methodically, I move from the living space to each of the bedrooms in turn, doing a full sweep to confirm my hunch.
I’m all alone.
When I end up in the room I’d shared with Matheus, I drop my backpack on his already made bed and sit, feeling silence blanket me like a shroud.
For some reason, rather than enjoying the solace I’m used to, it’s suffocating and lonely. Deep down, I know it”s because he’s not here with me.
I let myself fall backward and turn my nose toward the fresh bed sheets. Any trace of his cologne is gone as if he hadn’t been here at all.
I’m used to being on my own. After all, that’s how I work best. Trust no one. Zero distractions. Get the job done and leave.
It’s how my life used to be long before Matheus Souza.
But rolling onto my back again, staring up at the ceiling, welcomes flashbacks of his heart-stopping smile and those strong hands of his that were never too far away.
Getting up, I start to unpack a few things, decide to sleep in his bed, and slide my handgun under the pillow like clockwork.
I kick off my boots, strip naked, enter the bathroom, and dip under the running shower, groaning when the hot jets batter my tense shoulders.
Once I’m washed and dried, I dress in skimpy shorts and a baggy t-shirt, then climb into the single bed, pulling the thin sheet over me.
My heart sinks. I miss Matheus more than I should, and regretfully, those powerful feelings won’t go away.
The inner voice in my head chatters too loudly, filling the stillness of nightfall. It reminds me of The Covenant oath and how I had sworn on my life I’d be loyal to the Souzas without truly understanding how deep that vow would cut me.
At the time, it was simply a few words I had to repeat to become part of the elite squad. A way to win favor with Blanco’s rivals. To learn from the best and keep our enemies close. And that was it, nothing more.
Blanco wants power at his fingertips and sees Giovanni’s skill as a channel to tap. He understands that having professional, loyal hitmen at his disposal would give him ultimate power and control.
The very same reason why Elias Souza had turned one of his own sons into the most feared hitmen in the world. And for that reason alone, I was happy to play along and benefit from the alliance.
Except Blanco had changed the plan.
Eventually, my eyes drift shut, and my body relaxes. Almost asleep, a dull thud fires up my instincts.
My lashes flick open as I simultaneously slide my hand under the pillow and grab my gun.
In the doorway, a shadowy figure stands still, quietly staring into the room. I blink a few times, focusing on the details I can make out.
Black suit pants and a fitted dress shirt house a tall male. Precious stones glitter from his cuffs, caught in the slight beam of moonlight pouring in through the patio doors opposite him.
My pulse takes off, sensing trouble.
“What do you want, Tomás?” I ask calmly, curling my fingers around my weapon.
The sight of his sinister aura scatters prickles the entire length of my spine. It’s an odd sensation for someone like me to feel.
I don’t scare easily.
There’s a coldness in his shadowy expression. Something I’ve seen many times in the eyes of countless men and not been fazed.
But this domineering man––his presence chokes the atmosphere, making it darker, fatal even.
I get the distinct impression his demons have joined us, and they aren’t in the mood to play nicely.
Pitch black eyes drill into my face while he studies me, an uncomfortable silence growing between us.
With his broad shoulders drawn back, his towering posture exudes the sophistication of a suited mafia don rather than a heartless, body burning drug lord I know him to be.
“Tomás?” I repeat, sitting upright and pointing my gun at him. “I asked, why you’re in my room?”
He still doesn’t reply. Goosebumps race over my arms when a second figure appears, immediately stepping in front of him.
I swallow hard and glare at The Covenant commander and into the barrel of his suppressed semi-automatic handgun.
Giovanni wears dark clothes and a non-branded baseball cap. The peak shades his features, but fails to dull a set of piercing green eyes that appear almost superhuman.
“Finally decided to return to base, Buffalo?” his deep voice rumbles. “Did you take a little detour? For a while there, I thought I’d have to send someone after you. Put your gun down now.”
“You put yours down first,” I bite out and jerk my chin upwards, motioning to Tomás. “And then tell me why the fuck he’s in my room.”
“Throw your gun on the bed, Buffalo.” Giovanni orders, his tone sharp and stone cold. “Last chance.”
My heart is hammering in my chest, loud and wild. If my trigger finger moves even a fraction, he’d shoot me dead.
I understand this guy, the hitman. At one point, I’d been in awe of his skill and proficiency. Nevertheless, here we are. In a deadlock because I pulled a gun on his big brother.
Slowly, I toss it on top of the sheet, not too far from my knee, just in case. The second it lands, Giovanni advances, grabs my forearm, and spins me around, shoving me face down into the mattress.
“What the fuck!” I mumble, wrestling against the weight of him on top of me.
In a blur, my arms are pinned behind my lower back and my wrists cuffed. Gloved hands pat me down, checking for concealed weapons.
Content I”m unarmed, he hauls me into the air. My snarls are ignored as he overpowers me.
Except I won’t go down without a fight, so I tip sideways, energetically flick my leg out and kick him in the thigh, doing whatever I can to unbalance the man.
Of course it doesn”t work. I don”t even think stabbing this monster in the heart with a flaming dagger would slow him down.
He manages to manhandle me onto the floor, into a kneeling position, and prowls behind me, out of sight, giving me a full view of the Souza boss.
Tomás’ dress shoes strike the tiles as he strolls over to the messy bed beside me, pinches the knees of his tailored pants, and sits, every bit the intimidating god the tabloids portray him to be.
Me though, I remember his shiny, smart shoes and those pitch-black eyes of his boring into my cold body as I lay in that hideous barn.
There was nothing divine about him that day. No, he was the devil”s servant, obediently covering up the inhumane mess his father had let happen.
“It’s confession time, Daniela Blanco,” Tomás orders, his voice husky and low. “Think of The Covenant as your church where you’ll seek refuge and protection…” He pauses for a heartbeat. “If you’re truly loyal, that is.”
The sculpted edge of his cheekbones meets precisely trimmed stubble, immaculate in every way. But the way he speaks—that gritty texture, rich and confident—makes my hairs stand at attention.
It”s obvious he’s Matheus’ big brother. There’s no denying the family resemblance. It’s strong in all four men. Even if they don”t share the same father, they’re all-powerful Souza men.
However, Matheus stands out to me in more ways. He’s in a different league than this man. Far more superior and much better looking. There’s nothing I’d change about him.
Whereas Tomás, I’d change the fact he’s still breathing.
Tomás casually props his elbows on his knees, bringing the bloodstone on his finger into my line of sight. The prominent Souza symbol that Matheus doesn’t wear.
“What brings you to Sicily?” Tomás stares right through me, our gazes intensely connected.
I raise my chin in defiance, showing no weakness unlike the last time we’d met. Back then, my body felt like an earthquake had gone off inside of it.
I’d nipped my lower lip so hard it punctured the flesh, just to stay quiet and appear dead.
“I’m an agent, aren’t I?” I reply flatly. “Here to fulfill The Covenant oath.”
“Right, yeah… about that.” Tomás straightens. “You took your time finding your way back. Why is that?”
I look up at the ceiling and sigh, not hiding my offhand attitude. He can go fuck himself. I’m not that innocent girl anymore and if the opportunity arises, I’d headbutt the fucker’s nose with as much force as I could muster.
God, the fracturing sound would have my veins singing.
I’d happily wear Tomás Souza’s black blood even if Blanco wouldn”t approve. He never said I couldn’t defend myself.
“Well, let’s see, Tommy.” I shorten his name, saying it flippantly. “Your men used a chloroform-soaked rag to knock me out. Probably because they were scared I’d beat the shit out of them if I was conscious. After that, when I came around, it was a bloodbath. And the blood spilled, as you can see…” I raise my shoulders, keeping my tone blasé. “It wasn’t mine.”
When I chuckle, the corners of his mouth move ever so slightly as if he’s marginally amused, then in a heartbeat, his expression reverts to stern all over again.
I laugh inwardly. My mistake. The Colombian kingpin is incapable of lightheartedness, not like his youngest brother.
Matheus is the blazing sun rays in my cold world.
An unsettling shiver spreads over me when Tomás cocks his head to the side, letting a second of silence swallow me.
“And that happened right after you assassinated one of our lieutenants? Am I right?”
“After I followed through on an order that was approved by…” I lean in closer. “…you.”
The depth of his glower captures my returning gaze and holds it there as musky cologne fills my nostrils. The undertones aren’t unpleasant. In fact, I’d go as far as saying it aligns with his persona perfectly.
Both enticing and deceitful––like a two-faced monster—luring his enemies into never-ending darkness.
Well, I won’t follow this man anywhere unless I’ve got a gun and he’s my target.
“It was a very advantageous mission for you, wasn’t it?”
His eyes never leave me.
I shoot him a wry smile. “Hmmm, the way my blades slid into his eyeballs…that made me tingle all over. There’s something delicious about getting revenge, Tommy.” I beam, still elated by it. “That exact moment was more satisfying than the purest drogas.”
Tomás steeples his fingers. “Did you notice the security cameras inside the club? Is that why you took off your balaclava and fucked my brother moments after you’d murdered Eduardo?”
My brows snap together. “No.”
“I think you knew your little reveal would start a war inside my organization and put my family at risk. A calculated plan on your part that led to an assassination attempt on André.”
I feign a long sigh. “Oh, Tommy, so cynical. Why don”t you talk to Matheus about your paranoid hunch and listen to the truth instead of all this cloak and dagger bullshit? He told me to remove my balaclava. I did what he asked. Mat wanted Eduardo to see my face before I killed him. There was no ulterior motive other than a girl getting revenge.”
Letting my words sink in, his brow creases and long lashes framing starless eyes bat slowly. Then out of the blue, he fists my hair at the root, quicker than a crack of lightning, and yanks my head back.
Instantly, my muscles brace and my teeth bare.
“Get your fucking hand off me,” I snarl.
“I’m not paranoid, se?orita. Comprendes?” he says calmly, so close to my face that the diamonds adorning his earlobes twinkle. “You have our enemy’s blood running through your veins and my youngest brother thinks it doesn’t matter. He chooses to believe you’d always be loyal.”
Air shoots down his sharp nose and his lips curl into a cruel smirk.
“Whereas I disagree.”
Unhanding me, he sits back and gives us both a little space to breathe.
“When you joined The Covenant, it gave you––a Blanco––a way to infiltrate my organization. You would have told that little sob story of yours to anyone who listened.” The chuckle rumbling from the back of his throat mocks me. “That was a way to inject your poison and watch our foundations rot. I bet you wet your panties when Matheus showed up and let you fuck his brains out.”
“Hold on a goddamn minute,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “It wasn’t like that. He chased me. So, get your facts straight.”
“I don’t believe you, Daniela.” His voice is thicker, full of grit and authority. He stands, his full height looming over me. “I think you’re a manipulative puta who thought she could fuck with my familia. You don’t give a shit about Matheus and never will. And Blanco, he saw an opportunity and took it. But what I can’t figure out is why you pretended you didn’t want to marry my brother. Perhaps the idea of a wedding simply planted a seed…a tactic in a much bigger game. Or maybe you enjoyed screwing with his head like a conniving bitch. Making him want what he thinks is beyond his reach. Driving him fucking mad.” His scornful, harsh tone could crush metal to dust. “You played Matheus and made the guy think he had power behind him to question me. You managed to turn my own brother into a traitor.”
“You”re wrong––about all of it––” I begin, just as Tomás looks behind me.
A sudden whoosh of coastal air whispers over my bare legs. My instincts flare and my head whips around where the patio doors are wide open.
Outside, Giovanni drags a man across the terrace and boots the back of his knees, roughly forcing him to kneel.
My blood turns to ice and my heart stops beating.
“W-w-what is this?”
I swivel to face the new arrival, me indoors and him held prisoner on the terrace.
My pulse is thumping in my neck. But no matter how hard I strain to free my wrists; the cuffs won’t break. I stare out at the circumference of a muscular physique surrounded by a starry sky and dark clothes almost camouflaging the man”s body in shadows.
His arms are secured behind his back and his knees press onto the cold slabs, his unarmed position mirroring my own.
The whites of his eyes flash, bright and vivid, his only visible features. A balaclava covers his whole head––the front of it is stitched with a crow emblem.
Matheus.