Page 12 of Dangerous Seduction

“My hunch was right. We have a tail, Pedro,” I said, my tone clipped.

He gave a curt nod, his knuckles tightening around the steering wheel as we merged back onto the thoroughfare. I leaned back in my seat, and thoughts flooded my mind as I contemplated the potential threats.

It could be the DEA, still trying to gain a foothold in our operation after the disastrous warehouse raid six weeks ago. Or one of our rivals, like Javier Cruz, was making a bold move to encroach on our territory. Either way, the situation needed to be handled.

When the familiar restaurant building came into view, I was fifteen minutes late, and Sofia would undoubtedly give me an earful for my tardiness. Not that I was looking forward to the evening’s festivities–meeting her new beau held about as much appeal as a root canal. I’d been avoiding it for weeks. My sister finally gave me an ultimatum: show up tonight or prepare to be scorned forever. Even I didn’t dare challenge that.

As the town car pulled up to the valet stand, I saw the Cadillac lingering a block away, its tinted windows concealing the occupants. A muscle twitched in my jaw as I exited the vehicle, straightening the crisp lines of my suit jacket.

“Pedro, stay close,” I muttered under my breath. “And have Marco investigate that tail. I want to know who they are and what they want.”

Pedro peeled away from the curb with a curt nod, leaving me alone to stride into the restaurant. Pedro was a good guy, solid and loyal.

The maître d’ greeted me with a polite smile, his eyes widening as he recognized me.

“Mr. Reyes, welcome. Your party is already seated. Right this way, please.”

I followed him through the dimly lit dining room, my gaze sweeping over the well-heeled patrons as they sipped their wine. Sofia spotted me first, her expression a concoction of relief and exasperation.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, rising from her seat. “I almost thought you’d stood us up.”

“Fashionably late, as always,” I quipped, leaning in to brush a kiss against her cheek. “You know how I like to make an entrance.”

Sofia rolled her eyes, but her smile took any sting out of the gesture. “Dante, this is Allen Hawkes,” Sofia said, her voice brimming with affection. “Allen, my brother.”

My gaze shifted to the man sitting beside her, and I felt an immediate hint of dislike as he rose from his seat, extending a hand that I took with reluctance. His grip was firm, almost too firm, as if he were trying to assert dominance.

Allen Hawkes exuded an air of… I don’t know; maybe it’s arrogance and entitlement. His slicked-back hair and designer suit screamed “trust fund brat,” and how he was eyeing Sofia made my protective instincts flare.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Dante,” he drawled, his voice dripping with false sincerity. “Sofia has told me so much about you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” I said coolly, holding his gaze in a silent challenge.

Allen’s smile faltered for a moment before he recovered, slinging an arm around Sofia’s shoulders in a possessive gesture that made my hackles rise.

“Well, now that we’re all acquainted, why don’t we order some drinks and get this party started?” he suggested, overly cheerful.

As the evening wore on, Allen’s true colors became increasingly apparent. He dominated the conversation, rarely letting anyone else get a word in, and was more interested in impressing Sofia than getting to know her as a person. But, judging by the occasional sideways glances Sofia shot me, it was clear she was into the fucker.

During a lull in Allen’s endless prattling, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. After excusing myself from the table, I stepped to the bar and answered the call, my jaw tightening as Marco’s voice crackled.

“We’ve got a situation, Dante,” he said without preamble. “That tail you noticed earlier? It’s the DEA, and they’ve been tracking your movements for the past few days. Not sure what is going on, but they are up to something.”

I ended the call with Marco. My jaw clenched tight as I processed the information about the DEA tail. Those bastards were up to something, alright.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket and noticed the presence beside me. A woman, her back turned as she leaned against the bar, nursing a glass of red wine. Even from this angle, I could tell she was stunning—the kind of beauty that demanded attention.

I inched closer to get a better look, my curiosity piqued. The woman was wearing a dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, the deep crimson fabric a striking contrast against her sun-kissed skin. The neckline plunged just low enough to tease at the swell of her breasts while the skirt ended mid-thigh, showcasing a pair of legs that went on for miles.

As my gaze traveled upward, I took in the cascade of dark, glossy waves that tumbled down her back, the soft curls brushing against her bare shoulders. She had one elbow propped on the bar, her slender fingers wrapped around the stem of her wineglass, and her nails painted the same shade of red as her dress.

She must have sensed my stare because she turned then, her eyes meeting mine with an intensity that nearly knocked me off my feet. They were a deep blue, framed by long, dark lashes that fluttered enticingly as she regarded me with a blend of intrigue and amusement.

Her lips, a lush, berry hue, turned into a slow, seductive smile that made my pulse quicken. Her high cheekbones, delicate nose, and jawline that could cut glass came together to create a face that was nothing short of breathtaking.

But it was more than just her physical beauty that drew me in. There was something about her—an air of confidence and mystery that was alluring and dangerous. She carried herself with the poise of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it.

It was almost as if I’d met her before, but I knew that was impossible. A woman like this? There was no way in hell I would’ve forgotten her.

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