Page 4 of Devil Mine

“And you think anyone will agree to that willingly?”

He gives me a look. “Their women aren’t like ours. Whichever English rose you decide to pluck will probably prefer a quiet life in the countryside to dealing with you coming home covered in blood every night.”

We step into the elevator and he presses the button to the top floor. I lean against the wall and cross my arms, my teeth grinding together.

“Plus,” he adds. “No one said she had to come willingly. Take the one you like if you want. Once the certificate is signed, there’s nothing anyone will be able to do.”

I grunt in response, effectively ending the conversation.

Realistically, I know it’s only a matter of time until I need to make a decision. Part of me knows it makes sense for me to use a marriage as an opportunity to advance the cartel’s interests. The other part doesn’t want to deal with the responsibility of having a wife, especially one I don’t want.

I’ve been focused almost exclusively on business and expansion since coming here. Nothing else has held my interest, not even being nine inches deep in a woman.

The last woman I’d fucked was an uninspiringly dull encounter. She’d been on her knees, talking about how huge my cock was, desperately trying to get my limp dick hard with her hand, mouth running a thousand miles per hour spewing some inane bullshit. It’s only once I’d taped her mouth shut and fucked her from behind, face down into the mattress, that I’d been able to get it up long enough to pump into her five times before the most anticlimactic climax of my life.

Her elaborately faked screams of pleasure had done my head in. I’d thrown her out with clothes in hand and hadn’t fucked anyone since.

That was over a year ago.

It hasn’t been for lack of opportunity mind you.

No, women throw themselves at me constantly. Being queen of the da Silva cartel is a coveted position, especially these days, and I’ve had no shortage of offers.

Sex loses its luster when pussy is freely offered just for a grab at power. With barely a look in their direction, women spread their legs for me, their eyes shining with the possibility of being my wife.

I can’t fucking blame them.

My family was once digging itself out of poverty and grime, climbing up the bloodied ladder of power, rung by rung and death by death until we reached the top. So game recognizes game and I don’t judge them for it. But nothing kills my erection like the stench of desperation on a woman.

Sticking my dick in my fist and getting off that way had provided just as much excitement as the countless faceless one night stands, with the added bonus of headache-free post-orgasm clarity when I didn’t have to kick anyone out as they tried to bargain staying overnight.

Seems I’m going to have to get used to it if I'm going to pick one of these insipid debutantes to be my wife. If nothing else, I understand the argument Arturo’s making regarding the value such an arrangement could bring to the business.

And the cartel, my family, that always comes first, even above my own interest.

Who knows, maybe I’ll find a bride worth keeping around.

I’m not holding my breath.

“I’ll think about it,” I finally say.

Marco whistles in shock, amazed that I’m even considering this.

Arturo looks up from his phone and gives me a surprised look. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, I’m far from agreeing to this,” I snap back. “But if I do, I get to choose.”

He puts his hands up.

“That goes without saying,jefe,” he says as the doors open onto a large reception area. There are two corridors on either side of a concierge desk, each with a large meeting room in the corner faced with two more hallways leading to more offices.

Arturo walks out, followed by Marco who throws me a grin and a quick, “Let me know if you need help shopping for your wife,jefe. Happy to test out the merchandise for you before you make a decision.”

The two of them make their way across the bustling reception area towards where we know the CEO’s office is.

I follow ten steps after them, still deep in thought.

A heady, moody scent slams into me, star anise and black liquorice, knocking me back and ripping me from my introspection.

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