Page 47 of Queen's Move

Her frown turned to a smile as he placed his lips against hers, touching just the edge at first before settling more firmly over her mouth and pressing harder. She opened her mouth, breathing him in and allowing him access. He took her bottom lip gently in his teeth, tugging a tiny bit before leaving off to explore further, slipping his tongue first against her teeth and then further, exploring her. Her heart picked up speed, her pulse fluttered in her throat and the blood rushed beneath her skin, warming her.

He released her lips, moving back just a fraction, to say, “Hola, mi esposa. Did you sleep well?”

“Si, it was very nice,” she sighed and opened her eyes to look up at him. She was surprised at the look that greeted her. She’d been expecting warmth, lust, heat. Instead she was greeted with something else. Something much darker. His face was devoid of expression, but his eyes held a sinister promise.

She pushed herself back and sat up. She didn’t want to be in such an inferior position while he was looking at her like that, like he might devour her whole. She wanted some space. She shoved her blond hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ears.

“Are you up for a walk, cariño?” he asked, taking her arm. He pulled her from the bed, not giving her much choice but to stand.

“Sure,” she agreed. “Where are we going?”

“The prison,” he said easily walking to the closet and opening the doors.

A cold chill ran through her, obliterating the pleasantness of her nap. She knew where he wanted to take her. He was ready to deal with John and she had asked to be there when he did it. Suddenly, she regretted that choice. Everything about Sotza felt… removed, different, wrong. This was the man who had ruthlessly torn her city from her and hunted her into the ground without mercy. Not the man who had been tenderly caring for her, making love to her, showing her all the things she’d missed out on in her previous marriage.

But she couldn’t refuse to go with him. Couldn’t back out now. She was his wife. If she wanted to show him that she was capable of standing at his side, this was the time to do it. She would not lose his respect by chickening out, but at the same time she feared what she might see in the prison. As he helped her into a pair of black leggings, she wondered how she would react to seeing him at work.

“Lift your good arm,” he instructed, his voice impersonal. “I’ll help you with the other one.”

She gasped in pain, nausea running through her as her arm was lifted and fitted into the sleeve of a loose silk blouse. After Sotza buttoned the front, he tipped her chin up so she was looking at him. He gave her a look that said everything. That he was going to take vengeance on her behalf and that he was going to enjoy every second.

“Which shoes?” he asked, striding back toward the closet.

“My heels,” she said, trying to keep her voice strong. “The silver ones.”

He returned with her steel-heeled shoes, crouched in front of her and, lifting one leg at a time, slid the shoes on. She felt better with the extra height; she needed the added confidence only a good pair of shoes could give her.

She nodded at him, indicating she was ready. He didn’t take her hand, didn’t touch her. He allowed her to walk on her own, showing her strength to the world. Vee was glad that Raina was nowhere in sight as they made their way down the stairs, out the back door and into the garden. Two men dropped in behind them as they walked, shadowing them as they bypassed the garden maze, walking side by side down a concrete path toward a brightly lit building. Vee hadn’t noticed it before. She’d been locked inside the bedroom for most of her time in Sotza’s home and she hadn’t been able to see it from the angle of her windows.

It took only a few minutes for them to get to the building. Vee was relieved that her heels didn’t catch in any cracks in the pavement. She really didn’t want to ruin this significant moment by falling on her face, though every fibre of her being begged her to turn around and rush back to the safety of her bedroom. When they arrived at the building, the door opened for them as though they were expected, and someone had been watching for their arrival. She took a breath of fresh air before entering the foreboding place that held the stench of death. Not literally, but she knew to the very mortar of the structure that this was a building of torture, death and decay. Many who entered hadn’t ever left.

The entrance was brightly lit, as was the hallway leading toward several closed doors. Vee squeezed her eyes shut for a quick second, before straitening her shoulders and looking toward Sotza for instruction. He was watching her carefully, his sharp eyes on her face, reading her. He wasn’t sure of her. Didn’t know if she would pass this test. Truthfully, she didn’t know either. Her time as the boss of Miami had occasionally been bloody, had called for her to do some things she’d have rather not done. But she knew, deep down, that this was different. This was on another level. This was why she’d failed to hold her city. She didn’t have the stomach to go to the dark places Sotza did.

“This way,” Sotza said coolly, speaking for the first time since they left the house. She nodded briefly and followed him down the hall, right to the end. He stopped next to a door, gave her a pointed look, and opened it.

Mateo turned to look at them from where he was standing. He nodded and said respectfully, “Señora Sotza.”

Vee stepped through, ahead of Sotza. Her eyes went right to John who was sitting in a chair, his hands cuffed behind his back. He didn’t look too bad, and while Vee felt trepidation in being so deep in Sotza’s lair, she also felt a bit cheated that he hadn’t been more roughed up. The guys could’ve knocked him around a bit on their way back.

Sotza stepped up behind her, for just a moment, before he moved away, toward his victim. Vee felt bereft at the loss of his warmth. She wanted to cling to him, to keep him the way she needed him. The warm, loving husband he’d been showing glimpses of. Not the monster she knew was about to come out and play.

She swallowed hard and forced her hands to remain at her sides. John was staring grimly at the floor. He knew the price of betrayal. And yet he still chose to pay it.

“Why?” Vee demanded, taking the few steps that would close the distance between them. She stood directly in front of John and waited for him to lift his head. “Why did you betray our family?”

She purposefully used the word ‘our’ including not only herself and Sotza, but everyone that worked for him. For them. It made his betrayal hurt more. It made the other men who would witness this execution even angrier at John, more loyal to the Sotza cartel. She caught her husband’s eye over John’s head and saw a flash of warmth cross those dark soulless depths. He knew she’d chosen her words carefully.

“Speak now, John, as I run out of patience. And when my patience ends, my husband will go to work. Trust me when I say that this is something you’ll wish to delay.”

John lifted his head, treating her to a terrifying look. The depth of his hatred pierced her. What had she done to deserve it? She had expected desperation, fear, pleading. She hadn’t expected such defiance. But then, maybe she should have. Though he betrayed them, he was still Sotza’s man, one of his army of security. The job would be brutal, not for the faint of heart.

“You expect anything from me, puta?” he snarled. Sotza stiffened and Vee had to shake her head to stop him from stepping in. “You are here for two seconds and the keys to the throne are handed to you. We have heard the rumours about you. About how you open your legs to whoever will take you the highest. You disgust me!”

Vee smiled coolly. “That’s a very interesting way of summing up my life, John. But my past isn’t the reason for your betrayal is it? Nothing so deep as that. What was it? What did Garza promise you?” John spat at her, but she sidestepped and it landed near her feet. She sighed in annoyance and held her hand out to Mateo. “Gun please.”

Mateo looked toward Sotza with a raised brow. Sotza gave him a nod and Mateo passed his weapon over to her, butt first. She took the gun, looked it over, cocked it, putting a bullet in the chamber and then holding it to John’s head.

“You need to speak to me John, make me understand. Because if you don’t talk then there’s no reason to keep you alive. You see, as much as my husband likes to play with his food, I prefer a quick death. Perhaps you need to decide which you would prefer?” She put the gun against his arm and shot, aiming toward the bone so the bullet wouldn’t go through and ricochet. Mateo looked toward his boss again, but Sotza merely looked amused as blood sprayed across her white blouse and John started screaming. She gave him a moment to compose himself. She knew exactly how much a gunshot wound to the arm hurt, he was going to need a few minutes. When his screams died away and he began swearing at her, she slapped him in the side of the head with the gun and put it back to his ear. “That was just to prove that I’m a woman of my word. I don’t fuck around, John. The next bullet will end you. Start talking if you want a few more minutes of life.”

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