Page 25 of Queen's Move

“Manolo,” Desi snarled, barely concealing her annoyance. She snatched up her wine glass a mere second after the servant poured. “My bracelet is Cartier and my make-up is mostly Armani. That about sums up my wardrobe unless you want to talk about my underwear.”

Vee nearly laughed out loud. Wow, it was easy to get under Desi’s skin. She really wished the other woman weren’t so hostile. She suspected they actually had quite a lot in common, even the quick temper. It would be fun to chat her up, see what it was like inside a Mexican cartel from the viewpoint of a powerful woman.

Nico interrupted their fun though by growling across the table at Desi, telling her to shut her mouth if she couldn’t be polite to his guests. Vee was surprised when, instead of looking contrite, Desi turned her furious gaze toward her lover. She didn’t speak, and Vee understood. Desi would push Nico too far if she disrespected him directly. Appearance was everything to a cartel man.

After that, Vee got bored. Desi behaved herself, even when Vee tried to bait her into a response. Nico continued acting the perfect host, politely inquiring about their wedding plans. Sotza played ball but gave non-committal responses. Nico didn’t try to flirt with her as he’d done on the airstrip. She wondered why. He’d obviously been playing with them earlier, but was his lack of overt attention to Vee a sign of respect toward Desi? That would imply their relationship was deeper than it appeared on the surface.

Vee was curious about their weird little dinner party. It was steeped in hostility and tension, yet nothing spilled into the polite flow of conversation. What was the point? Was Nico simply being polite, inviting his guests to an evening meal while they stayed with him? Or did this meal have a more sinister undertone? Was their host trying to assess them, assess Sotza’s strengths, perhaps even his feelings toward Vee? And for what reason? Would be dare to strike out at them while they were vulnerable on his property? It would be a stupid decision. He must know the strength of the Venezuelan cartel. Retaliation would be swift and predictably brutal.

A quick glance toward Sotza confirmed that he was watching, his eyes never leaving Nico. His gaze was neutral, completely blank. Vee shivered as something stirred in those black depths every time Nico spoke or directed a comment to either one of them. She wondered what stopped Sotza’s hand. She knew, if The Butcher chose to make a move, to slaughter everyone in the room, they would all be dead before their soup spoons fell. Vee didn’t know if it was their need of a Mexican partner that stalled his hand, or if he was playing another game. Somehow, she didn’t think it was the negotiations. He’d cut off Domingo’s head with nary a thought to the ripple effects of his loss throughout Mexico. He’d simply done as he wanted and moved forward.

When the meal ended, Nico escorted Vee and Sotza to their room. After assuring him they would join him for breakfast he left. Sotza saw Vee into the room and then stepped out for a few minutes to talk to their security. Vee paced across the lush carpet, then pulled her shoes off and tossed them toward the end of the bed. When Sotza entered the room, Vee turned to him and stopped moving. She waited for him to speak first.

He locked the door and glanced over at Vee. He didn’t disappoint her expectations. “You were a beautiful sight tonight, Vee. You worked that room like a pro.”

Vee was elated and grinned broadly at the compliment. Maybe she should have brushed it off, but right now she felt awesome stepping back into her old role, one where she ruled a room with ease, but this time it wasn’t behind a desk or in a warehouse. “Tell me you saw what I saw?” she demanded.

He nodded seriously and strode toward the bed, sitting on the bench to pull his own shoes off. Vee tried to shrug away her sudden discomfort in the intimacy of a man taking his shoes off in a bedroom they would both sleep in. He’d seen her fully naked, the sound of his shoes hitting the floor shouldn’t be causing such a flutter in her stomach. “Desiree is clearly his second-in-command. She’s a terrible actress. I would lay money that he told her to act stupid, vapid. Just a beautiful bimbo companion to a rich man.”

“Exactly!” Vee said excitedly. “She rose to my bait so easily. Even when she finally locked down her emotions, I could still feel her anger and resentment. If her job was to gather intel, she seriously fucked that up. Which is why you don’t fuck around with the boss, messes with priorities.”

“Agreed, they shouldn’t be mixing business and pleasure. Tell me, Vee, did you learn this lesson from personal experience? From Danny Russo?” When he said the words, he stared at her. His mask dropped for a second and she saw The Butcher. He was demanding to know if she’s fucked Danny. Probably assumed she had.

Vee crossed her arms and gripped her biceps. She glared at him. “If you’re asking if I fucked Danny, than the answer is it’s none of your fucking business.”

“Even if it meant his life?”

She let out an annoyed huff and gave him the answer he wanted. “I know better than to fuck the staff.”

“Who would you fuck, Vee?” he persisted.

She lifted her chin and snapped, “I think you mean, who did I fuck? Do you want a list, Sotza, because it’s a long one? Isn’t that what you’re really after?”

“Careful,” he warned her.

“Or what?” she snapped throwing caution out the window.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, the first visible sign he’d given that he might be tired or affected by her constant resistance. The moment passed quickly and he straightened, giving her a glacial look. “You may have noticed that I’m fairly subtle most of the time.”

She frowned. That was true, he wasn’t particularly heavy-handed, yet he always seemed to get his way. “Yes?”

“Silent contemplation is how I survive in this business. I observe the people around me, find their weaknesses, and come up with creative punishments.”

She shivered. She’d heard of his ‘creative punishments,’ his meticulous brutality. “You would punish me?” she asked, her voice wavering a little.

He nodded. “If it became necessary. I never say anything I don’t mean to follow through on.”

They stared at each other, a battle of wills. Vee believed him. He always did what he said he was going to do. He’d told her from the beginning that he was taking Miami, that he was taking her, that he would marry her. Vee was starting to believe it. Believe that she couldn’t stop him.

“I would punish you back,” she said, unable to allow him the final word.

“I believe you’ll try,” he agreed. And once more she caught a flash of exhaustion etched into the grooves of his face. He spent months chasing after her, taking Miami from her and setting up his own command. All this while he still had his own cartel back in Venezuela, making sure it ran smooth without his presence. And now this negotiation with the Mexican cartel. He would have to be ten steps ahead of Garza at all times. She decided to back off… for now. She didn’t want to find the limit of his patience now. Not here in this dangerous place.

“I’m tired,” Vee said, opening the suitcase and digging around until she came up with white silk pyjamas, something she would definitely have bought for herself. She looked pointedly at the bed. “Where are you sleeping?”

He grinned suddenly, a wolfish smile that made her heart stutter. She was becoming accustomed to his gentlemanly demeanor, the cool way he carried himself. The sudden heat in his expression took her breath away. He didn’t answer the question she posed, instead he said, “Vee, when I’m ready to share a bed with you, you’ll know.” Then he turned and left the bedroom, the audible click of the lock a stark reminder of her situation.

She shouldn’t be sparring with The Butcher, she should be trying to find a way out of the cage he was building around her.

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