Page 21 of Falling for the Enemy

As always, the blackout drapes were open, the floor-to-ceiling, bulletproof glass pane the only thing shielding my second-story bedroom from the outside world. From the darkness, I’d felt someone watching me, their eyes glued to my back and shoulders.

Now I know it wasn’t just someone.

No, it was Alejandro.

A thrill races through me, my heart racing once more. How did he find me? And more importantly, why did he come? If he had plans to kill me, he must’ve been disappointed to find that doing so inside these walls is impossible. The property our home sits on is patrolled by trained attack dogs, our mansion fitted with reinforced, blast-proof doors and windows.

We live in a fortress.

No one can hurt us here.

“He’s not going away, Ari.”

I swallow and rub my suddenly clammy palms down my cheeks. Standing at well over six-foot, with broad shoulders and a wide chest that tapers to a lean waist and muscular thighs, Alejandro Santiago is inarguably enticing to look at.

His sharp jaw, slightly bent nose, dark, tawny-highlighted hair, and cinnamon-colored eyes only add to his good looks, making him one of the sexiest men I’ve ever met. As well as one I’d like to take for a test drive.

But that’s a line even I won’t cross.

Sleeping with the enemy isn’t an item I feel the need to check off my bucket list. I’m done with men and their conniving ways. As far as I’m concerned, most serve no purpose. My body has needs some could satisfy, da, but I’ll be sticking to vibrators.

Much less chance of bloodshed that way.

“Find out everything you can. Including where he’s staying, what local properties he now owns, which banks house his money, and any weaknesses he has.” The order is one Casper likely knew was coming and that he’s probably already begun to work on. “Then we’ll strike.”

“Consider it done.”

I sigh, the exaggerated sound likely audible in the next room. “He’s such a beautiful man.” Frustrated, I pinch the bridge of my nose as Casper chuckles, finding the entire situation amusing in his own twisted way. “It’s a shame I’m going to have to kill him.”

It’s a shame indeed.

But also a step I won’t hesitate to take.

SEVEN

Alejandro

War is coming.

Three weeks have passed since I arrived in the States, and other than my brief run-in with the Fallen Kings, things in North Charleston have been quiet. With La Famiglia cowering in whatever ratholes they now call home, they haven’t made a move against me.

Much to my ire.

But as I sit parked down the street from the battered women’s shelter where Carmen works part-time, awaiting her arrival, I sense that’s about to change.

Foreboding, a feeling I know better than to ignore, weighs on my calculating mind, serving as a warning of the blood that will soon be spilled. It’s why I’m here now, eighty miles from the territory I intend to secure as my own before the morning sun has even crested the horizon.

I have no intention of approaching my sister when she shows up. Nonetheless, my need to see her in the flesh, assuring myself that her heart continues to beat, has become too strong to ignore. But this one-sided visit also serves another purpose—it’s a reminder.

Of everything I’m fighting for.

And of everything I stand to lose.

Missing the comforting feel of my Beretta, my palm twitches as I drum my fingers against my knee, eyes laser-focused on the empty road before me.

Next to me, a restless Benito shifts in his seat.

Wrist resting on the steering wheel, he glances down at his illuminated phone, reading the scrolling text that flashes across the screen. “Your hermana is almost here,” he says, relaying the message he just received from Christian. “Her husband’s driving—” Falling silent, he nods to the windshield when a pair of distant headlights come into view, piercing the endless darkness that lies ahead. “That’s them.”

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