Prologue
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO come here with a woman,” one of the heavily armed men guarding the doorway said brusquely, his gaze suspicious as he gave James a swift but expert body check. The man opposite him didn’t speak, the bored expression on his face unchanging even as he pulled out his gun from his holster and cocked it, aiming for the side of James’ temple.
James straightened to his full height, reminding himself that he had nothing to be scared of. “That’s what I’m here to talk about.” Asshole. But he only added the last part silently, knowing that he would be an idiot to risk saying it. These goons wouldn’t give a fuck that they had racing royalty in their presence. All they knew was that James was supposed to be with his daughter – and he wasn’t.
Goddamn you, MJ, where the fuck are you? Stupid girl had always been a disappointment. He should’ve just sold the brat to her real dad. James knew he would have probably earned himself an easy one mil if he had done that. Maybe even five mil. Madeline’s ex-lover had always been a sentimental fool. But in the end, James’ desire for vengeance had won. Every time he made MJ suffer, it was like making that man pay a thousand times.
“I suppose you have an explanation for this?”
The oily voice coming from the man seated on the cushion, smoking a tobacco cigar, caused James’ thoughts to come to an abrupt halt. All thoughts of talking his way out of trouble fled, too. Even with the notorious crime lord hidden in the shadows, being in the presence of Manolito Chavez served as an effective reminder of what his ego had tried to make him forget.
This man killed for pleasure, but he also liked to kill when he was disappointed.
James started to babble. “I’m sorry. My daughter was supposed to be in town, but she just seemed to have disappeared. But she doesn’t have any other family. I can ask around, use my rights as her father to find out where she is. I just need some time.”
“You have one month.”
The time limit had him swallowing, but James knew better than to complain. “A month then.”
When James Cartwright left the room, Manolito came to his feet. When he stepped into the light, his entire visage was revealed, the scarred disfigurement of his face so grotesque it had been known to have women faint.
Walking to his desk, he pulled one drawer open to take out the full-length photo of the car racer’s daughter.
MJ Cartwright.
Long hair that would be great to use to strangle her own neck. Lovely fair skin that he could use as his own easel, and his knife would be his paint brush. She had everything he wanted in a woman, and what made her perfect was the fact that her only living relative was willing to sell her off.
Where was she now? he mused. Was she still a virgin? If she was, he just might give her father a bonus. If she wasn’t, it didn’t matter. He knew of a good doctor who could reconstruct her hymen. One quick surgery, and he would be able to give MJ an unforgettable first time.
No one deflowered like Manolito Chavez did.
Just thinking about MJ Cartwright had him hard. Oh, how she would fight him. She would not be like those women he had been gifted with of late. All of them had been so easily broken that they left him cold and bored. But MJ? According to his research, she had survived countless injuries and was even smart enough to get paid for it.
Oh, yeeeeeees.
Manolito’s breath caught as he started rubbing his dick.
She would be very, very strong. She would surely last him for weeks. Maybe if he was lucky, if he managed not to lose his temper or lose himself in lust and break her neck while he had his orgasm, maybe...she would even last for more than a year.
One could always hope—
His hand moved faster, and then his body stiffened as his seed burst out of his dick. His eyes closed, his mind fantasizing about having his hands wrapped around MJ’s neck and preventing her from breathing. She would not breathe until he did not finish coming.