Page 103 of Hearts Of Darkness

But it’s too late.

It will always be too late.

The next few seconds play out in slow motion. Manuel’s hand is still resting on the handle, his profile half-lit from the light in the hallway, when I see his expression switch from surprise to anger. There’s a dull roar and a distant, piercing scream, and then the back of my bodyguard’s head is exploding in a cascade of crimson as his body is propelled backward into my apartment, coming to rest sprawled out across my glass coffee table.

More seconds tick by.

I can’t take my eyes off Manuel’s dead body. There’s nothing left of his head but a bloody stump. Reality hits me like a slap to my face, and my stomach roils in revulsion.

“My brother’s whore, I presume?”

Recognizing the same voice from the phone call, I drag my gaze upward. Three men are standing in my doorway, but I only see one. He’s tall and rail thin, olive-skinned with slicked-back hair, a solid jawline, and the same razor-sharp cheekbones that I’ve kissed a million times. I meet his cold, unflinching stare as random thoughts slice through my mind like shrapnel from a detonated bomb.

He’s in Colombia.

Dante promised me.

Is my security detail dead too?

“You’re a hard woman to find,” says Emilio Santiago with a sigh, stepping further into my living room. “I tortured every single man in Dante’s compound, and I still couldn’t discover the location of your rat hole.” Revolted, I watch him rake his gaze up my bare legs and linger over the heavy swell of my breasts beneath my college sweater. “Well, he’s got good taste. I’ll give him that.”

This makes his men laugh.

“W-what are you doing here?” I stutter, tugging down my sweater to cover as much exposed skin as I can.

He transfers his gun to his other hand and calmly shuts the door behind him. “So, you know who I am?”

I nod.

“Good. That spares us the painful, drawn-out introductions.” He glances around my small apartment, wincing in distaste at the colorful chaos of my overloaded bookcase, my collection of mismatched furniture, and the dark bloodstains spreading out across my favorite cream rug. “I’m afraid I don’t share Dante’s affection for this country, Miss Miller. I loatheboth the place and the people.”

“Go back to Colombia then.”

This earns me a tight smile that never reaches his eyes. “I’m planning on it. Just as soon as mybusinesshere is done.”

“I can’t help you. I don’t know where Dante is,” I say, inching toward my bedroom.

“I know you don’t.”

My steps falter.Then what does he want with me?

I angle my wrist and slide my cell behind my back. If I can get to my room and barricade the door, it might buy me enough time to call for help.

“Would you like to hand me your phone now, Miss Miller, or do I have to break every one of those delicate fingers?”

I stare back at him, wide-eyed and innocent, with my heart pounding right out of my chest. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Diego, please show her how I deal with liars.”

The largest of his two men moves toward me with an unpleasant look on his face. Ripping the cell out of my hand, I see a blur of his fist before my left eye socket explodes in blinding agony. He pushes me to the floor as my hand flies to my face to staunch the heat that’s radiating like molten lava into my jaw. When I pull my trembling fingers away, they’re drenched in blood.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Not so pretty with a fractured cheekbone,” says Emilio, a note of satisfaction in his voice. “Still, I know how much my brother enjoys inflicting pain on his bitches. I’m sure you’re used to it by now.”

“How did you find me?” I gasp out, choking down the urge to vomit again.

“Dante shouldn’t put so much trust in his confidantes.” Emilio crouches down to bring his face level with mine. I recoil in horror against the wall. His cold, dead eyes are even more terrible close-up. His aftershave is bitter and overpowering, and my stomach starts roiling all over again. “Time to go, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “And guess what? You’re coming too.”

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