Page 67 of Hearts Of Darkness

“You’re a dead man, Rodrigo. You better turn that knife on yourself before I get my hands on it.”

I’m so consumed with rage I don’t notice the movement behind him, and nor does he until it’s too late. I watch him spin around in surprise, but we both know the game is up. My face is drenched in sticky red warmth as he drops to his knees clutching at the gaping wound in his throat, his death rattle poisoning the air.

“Never did like him,” mutters Joseph, landing a kick to his backside and sending him sprawling face-first into a grim pool of his own gore.

“Nicely done,” I murmur—cool as fuck—even though I’ve never been so glad to see him. “Where’s Tomas?”

“Dispensing with a couple of assholes of his own.”

“How did you free yourself?”

“These amateurs never checked the knife strapped to my calf.”

I have a flash of Eve’s face again.Does she still have mine?Meanwhile Rodrigo is still clawing at his neck on the floor, trying to knit together the gaping wound with his fingers.

“Untie me,” I say grimly. “I’m not done with him yet.”

Joseph slices through my ropes and then hands me his knife. I roll my neck and smile. The thrill of the kill is now mine, and mine alone to satisfy. It’s time to slake the deep well of darkness that resides inside of me.

Whatever happens next, Rodrigo’s last few seconds of life are going to be extremely unpleasant for him.

22

EVE

Dante’s bunker is a sleek, modern space with expensive black furniture and a cream and metallic décor throughout. It’s more than befitting of the boss of one of the biggest drug cartels in the world.

It’s a den of iniquity; a lair of illicit power. A place where deals are made, and lives are destroyed.

The deceit.

The lies.

So many lies.

My breath catches sharply. Hurt and devastation are ripping through me again. There’s no hiding from the truth. I let the man who killed my brother into my bed, and into my heart. The criminal that I’ve been searching for all these years was right there in front of me, whispering sweet things in my ear, violating my senses, awakeningmy body in the crudest, most base of ways. But his worst betrayal, by far, was making me crave him, knowing what he’d done to my family.Making me crave him, even now.

Looking back, I can’t help marveling at my naivety. I just didn’t connect, couldn’t comprehend, never envisaged…

I can’t think about it now, though. I can’t even begin to grasp the damage. Anger is already edging into this bleakest of scenarios.

The stillness of the bunker seems to emphasize his deception more. I can hear the jagged beating of my broken heart as we enter the first of three rooms. It’s a control center. His office. I count at least two-dozen security cameras mounted on the far wall. Half are out—either destroyed or malfunctioning. The rest are trained on different areas of his compound, all of which are burning. His kingdom is being razed to the ground before my eyes.By his own brother.

One thing’s for sure: the Santiago reign of terror is officially over. This private war will have far-reaching consequences across the communities of South America and Florida.

A glass desk occupies a prime position in front of the cameras, and to the left are a couple of black leather couches. Manuel’s sitting on one with a laptop on his knee, his machine gun resting on the coffee table in front of him. He’s attempting to hack into the compound computer system to reboot the network. Only then will he be able to alert whomever to our whereabouts. We’ve already tried the phones. The lines are dead, and Manuel’s cell has no reception. We must be at least fifty yards underground.

“Does this make any sense to you?” I ask him, gazing at a laptop screen where lines of indecipherable code are flitteringleft to right at a breakneck speed.

He nods. “I was a computer analyst before.”

“And you left that job to shoot guns forhim?”

He pauses his frantic tapping and glances up at me. There’s confusion and pity in his brown eyes. “Working for Señor Santiago is a huge honor in my country, señorita. I did not hesitate when he contacted me. He takes care of his own, and their families.”

“Like he took care of your face?”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Dante beat the guy to a pulp, yet he still has him stuck on a pedestal. The loyalty he inspires is unfathomable to me, especially now.

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