Page 47 of Wild Angel

Vito slumps onto the same couch as me, but as far away as he can get without falling off the side. There are no armrests on these things and the seats are so deep that my legs will stick out like a little kid’s if I tried to sit all the way back.

Instead I perch on the edge, studying Savage as he speaks quietly with the men near him. But they’re speaking Spanish, so I don’t understand a fucking thing.

“Christ, this is boring,” I mumble.

When I stand and bend over to grab one of the bottles of beer, Vito grabs my shoulder and hauls me back onto the sofa.

“Allow me,” he says.

Why is he being so fucking polite? I glare at him as he grabs two beers from the bucket, and when he looks back at me with stretched eyes, I have an epiphany.

When I leaned forward, my dress must have gaped open.

Now the guys talking to Savage are looking at me, not him.

Vito clears his throat loudly. “Shots?” he asks, his voice a touch higher pitched than usual. Without waiting for an answer, he sets out a row of shot glasses and fills them with vodka.

Savage is half turned away from me, but when he reaches for one of the shots, he straightens. His eyes scour my body and his jaw bunches.

“M’lady.” Vito steps between us, holding out a shot glass to me.

I snatch it from him, spilling some of the clear liquid over my fingertips.

Vito sits down again. “Salud!”

The stare Savage gives me as he picks up his glass and brings it to his lips is vicious and predatory.

I smile at him and toss the searing liquid down my throat. Then I hold out my glass to Vito. “Again.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Savage

If I didn’t need her here, I would have left Nyx at the villa. I’m grinding my teeth, and Samuel and Matias are starting to notice.

“Time?” I ask Matias.

“Twenty-one fifteen.”

“They’re late.” My eyes go back to Nyx, who’s roped Vito into giving her another shot of vodka, but I force them back to Matias Avila.

These are some of the best men in Domingo. I’ve worked on many cartel operations with them. They’re loyal, reliable, and, above all, they don’t feel the need to report back everything I do to Sergio and my father.

When I’m capo, they will be my lieutenants, and they’ll be handsomely rewarded for their service to me.

“Nicolas knows to expect them?” I ask.

The corners of Matias’s eyes crinkle a little, but he quickly smooths out his expression. “Of course. I briefed them when I arrived.”

I nod, kicking myself for asking. My men know what to do—the fact that I’m micromanaging has everything to do with the rebellious fucking blond sitting next to Vito.

God, she looks so fucking delicious. I’m struggling to keep my eyes off her. It speaks volumes that my men don’t even acknowledge her existence. Which, judging from her frown, is pissing her off.

I turn away from her again, keeping her barely in my periphery as I start talking to Samuel Florez.

“What was their response to the message?”

Sam shrugs. He’s not as beefy as Matias, but just as tall. His skills lie elsewhere. “They were nervous. Defiant. Exactly how you’d expect a bunch of—”

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