Page 80 of Dangerous Seduction

As if on cue, two officers appeared in the doorway, their faces devoid of emotion as one of them gestured for me to rise. “Time to go, Ramirez.”

I stood on shaky legs, the handcuffs rattling as I moved. Reynolds watched me with a smug, self-satisfied grin that I longed to wipe off his face with my fist. But I was powerless, just another casualty in his relentless quest for power and control.

I was marched down a series of dimly lit corridors, the fluorescent lights casting long, ominous shadows that mocking my predicament. My mind was a whirlwind of fear and rage.

I’ll be honest. Getting tossed into a cell like some two-bit criminal stung more than I’d like to admit. After they removed my handcuffs and the bars clanged shut behind me, I shot a venomous glare at the two smirking MDPD officers Reynolds had in his back pocket.

“You guys do realize you’re making a huge mistake, right?” I snarled, gripping the cold metal bars. “I’m one of the good guys here!”

The taller officer, a beefy meathead with a pencil-thin mustache, just chuckled. “That’s what they all say, sweetheart. Enjoy your new digs and your cell mates.”

I resisted the urge to flip him off as they walked away, no doubt congratulating themselves on bagging such a dangerous “criminal mastermind.” Please. If these glorified mall cops knew what I was really up against, they’d probably soil themselves.

I leaned back against the grimy wall, barely noticing the other two women in the cell, and ran a hand through my disheveled hair. How the hell had things gone so sideways? One minute, I was closing in on that weasel Reynolds and his shady cartel ties, and the next, I was the one being treated like public enemy number one.

I’d been so close to nailing that bastard, to getting justice for Matt and exposing the whole rotten system. But Reynolds had an airtight frame job.

Worse, with that fake file he’d cooked up, any attempt to blow the whistle on his twisted dealings would just look like a desperate, defensive ploy. The bastard had made sure of that, crossing every T and dotting every I to craft the perfect illusion of my culpability.

I snorted bitterly, picturing Reynolds as he watched me get hauled off. He was probably polishing his precious medal collection, congratulating himself.

I sank down onto the cold, hard bunk, staring at the cracked cement walls of my new “accommodations.” For the first time since this whole mess started, I felt a twinge of hopelessness creep in. How the hell was I supposed to clear my name when I was trapped in this dingy cell?

The sound of shrill laughter broke me from my pity party. “Well, well, looks like the new fish is having a rough first day!”

I rolled my eyes, not in the mood for whatever fresh hell this was. “Can it, Trailer Trash, before I shove my foot so far up your–”

“Easy there, chica,” the voice cut me off with a wheezy chuckle. “I’m just trying’ to welcome you to the joint in a friendly way.”

Despite my foul mood, I had to smirk at the woman’s ballsy attitude. “Yeah, well, your ‘friendly’ could use some work.”

As twisted as this whole clusterfuck had become, I had to admit, my current predicament was almost impressive.

I settled back on the creaky bunk.

Reynolds might have thought he’d won by tossing me in here, but this wasn’t over by a long shot.

THIRTY-SIX

DANTE

I jolted awake, the remnants of a nightmare still clinging to the edges of my consciousness. My body was coated in a sheen of sweat, the sheets twisted and tangled around my legs as if I had been thrashing in my sleep.

Beside me, the bed was empty, the sheets rumpled and cold, a silent testament to Natalia’s absence. I reached out, my fingers brushing against the pillow, and a sense of unease settled over me like a shroud.

She should have been here on the yacht with me, her warm body pressed against mine, her soft breath tickling my neck as she slumbered peacefully in the aftermath of our lovemaking. But the space beside me was painfully empty, a void that echoed with a thousand unspoken questions.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, my thumb hovering over Natalia’s number as I debated whether to call her or not. It wasn’t like her to disappear without a word, especially after the passion we had shared yesterday morning.

With a frustrated sigh, I tapped the screen, my pulse elevated as the line began to ring. One ring, two rings, three... and then her voicemail picked up, her familiar voice sending a pang of longing through me.

“Natalia, it’s me,” I said, my voice saturated with worry. “Where are you, mi reina? Call me back as soon as you get this.”

I ended the call and tossed the phone aside, scrubbing a hand over my face as I tried to make sense of the unease that had taken root in the pit of my stomach. Something wasn’t right, I could feel it in my bones, a primal instinct that had been honed over years of navigating the treacherous waters of the cartel world.

With a grunt, I hauled myself out of bed and padded across the carpet to look out the cabin window. The first rays of dawn were painting the horizon in hues of orange and pink but I couldn’t appreciate the splendor of it.

As I stood there, my mind began to wander, sifting through the events of the past few days, searching for any clue that might explain Natalia’s sudden disappearance. Had I done something to upset her? Said something that had pushed her away? No, that didn’t make sense. Our connection had been stronger than ever, our bond forged in the fires of passion and trust.

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