Page 18 of Savage Hero

Where is he?

How long until he comes back?

What’ll happen when he does?

And why the fuck is my pussy still tingling like we were just on a hot date?

Chapter Ten

Savage

“Nice threads,” Vito says when I step into the master suite an hour later wearing gray sweats and a sleeveless black hoodie. He sniffs the air, one pitch-black eyebrow quirking up. “That cologne for me?”

“I was covered in blood.”

Vito smirks. “I didn’t mind.”

When I glare at him, his expression grows serious. “Where is she?”

“Safe until Father’s ready to see her.”

“Him.” Vito dips his head and touches the side of his nose.

I roll my eyes at him and crack my knuckles in what I hope is a meaningful gesture. “You said they were here. I don’t see them.”

I’d been considering taking a second cold shower and putting another icepack on my balls when Vito texted to let me know Ciro and Rafael had arrived at the villa. I’m starting to develop a loathing kind of respect for the wild little angel I have trapped in my closet. She really knows how to throw a fucking punch—and a knee to the groin. I pity the man who puts a ring on her finger and then pisses her off. Although, fuck, I imagine make-up sex with Nyx could be mind-blowing.

Christ, I just had a cold showerandmy balls are still aching, and I’m already getting a semi thinking about the girl. The fuck is wrong with me today?

“They just came through the gate,” Vito says. “Thought you’d want to be ready to greet them.”

He’s right—I need to be in place when they arrive. Brothers Ciro and Rafael Cabrera head up the Colombian territory of the Domingo cartel. It used to be the largest cell, but the Disney cell long since stripped them of that title. By contracting out to local gangs for mid-level trafficking and extortion, we’ve carved out a massive swathe of territory in Florida.

The Cabreras arrive a few minutes later while Vito’s entertaining Sergio and me with details about last night’s conquest—a busty blonde he met at one of our clubs in South Eola.

I was born in Colombia, but Vito popped out of his mother three weeks early while she was still on American soil. Father says it’s because Vito always wanted to be American, not Colombian. He doesn’t have an accent and dresses like the idiots on television—the ones who have more money than brains.

Life is complicated enough. I can’t care about shit like fashion.And I keep getting blood on my clothes.

Vito and I step aside so Ciro and Rafael can greet my father. Both are from different families and we could easily replace them, but then we’d have to move back to Colombia. I don’t love America as much as Vito does, but it’s a far sight better than Colombia. There, I’m treated like an outsider. A pretender. There, my respect is grudging and I only get more than a nod when I’m in the presence of my father.

The discussion about what measures we should take against Bogota takes over an hour, with everyone deferring to Bryan on every minutia. We could have been done in twenty minutes if I’d been leading the meeting.

But honor prevents me from rushing things along, and duty compels me to follow a weaker plan than the one I had prepared. Worse of all, they give me and Vito the bare minimum of information we need before sending us out of the room like snotty-nosed soldiers two days in the cartel.

Tradition has it that we’ll all have lunch together before the Cabreras leave again. Vito says he has a call to make—which means he’s probably sexting one of his flings—so I head to the villa’s gym and run on the treadmill until my sweats have lived up to their name.

It’s better than hanging around waiting.

It’s better than trying to stop myself from going to see Nyx.

Sergio sends a text calling me back to the master bedroom. I’d hoped Father would be too tired from the discussion to remember Nyx…but the moment he locks eyes on me, I know he hasn’t.

I don’t know my father to be sentimental, but these days he has spent a lot of time sitting on the patio staring at nothing. Ruminating…but on what? His position is secure. He could easily run the cartel for another ten, fifteen years before Sergio replaced him.He has a young mistress, an heir, and more money than he knows what to do with.

“Savage,” Father croaks, lifting a crooked finger as if to beckon me closer.

“I’ll bring him up after lunch.”

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