Page 6 of Queen's Move

“I’m declaring my intentions,” he said, the intimacy in his tone unmistakable now, despite the old-world language he used.

“No!” she said immediately. “You can’t.”

He stepped up to the bed and reached for her. If Vee had the wits left in her head for self-preservation she would have fled. But shock held her rooted to the bed. He took her wrist in a firm hold, his long, warm fingers banding around her, holding her still while he took the ring from her. He flipped her hand over and pushed the ring onto the third finger. It was a perfect fit. Of course.

With a gasp she tried to tug her hand away, but he held her firm, the steel in his hold translating to his face, turning their encounter into something much deadlier. She stopped struggling, holding perfectly still. He dominated her with that single touch, his tall body leaning over hers, folded on the bed. She tried to lean away but he followed her, catching the back of her head with his other hand and forcing her to remain in his grip. She could feel the strength running through his solid body, though he touched her only with his hands.

He leaned until his face hovered over hers and she could see the gold flecks in the dark brown depths of his eyes. She shivered under the sinister onslaught of The Butcher’s perusal. His voice vibrated with authority when he spoke. “This ring does not come off. You understand?”

Vee stared back, her blue eyes icy as the arctic. She refused to speak. Refused to acknowledge his edict. His fingers clenched in the back of her hair, catching the fine strands and tugging. He dropped his lips to hers, startling her with a quick, hard kiss. It was just the press of his closed mouth against hers, opened slightly in a gasp of surprise. It shouldn’t have been erotic, yet somehow, it sent lightning bolts zinging through her body sparking an awareness she hadn’t felt in years. Perhaps never. Her eyes flew open before he pulled away. His gaze met hers and she saw satisfaction burning there.

He spoke barely an inch away from her mouth, his warm breath marking her. “Take that ring off and there will be consequences, Vee.”

He released her, allowing her to collapse back onto the bed. She landed palms down on all fours. She knew the position looked sexual, that he could see her underwear; caught the flash of lustful heat in his gaze before he shuttered it. He scooped up the larger of the boxes and headed out the bedroom door. Vee scrambled off the bed and followed him.

She was extremely conscious of her bare legs but wanted to keep eyes on her deadly intruder at all times. He set the box down on her kitchen island and turned back to her, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe in one heated glance. She shivered and crossed her arms. Then uncrossed them, aware that the hem off her nightshirt rode up the edge of her thighs when she did that.

“I’ll be in touch,” he told her and left through the front door of her condo, resetting her alarm system. Vee gaped after him. Belatedly, she wondered what the hell had happened to her bodyguards? She hoped they weren’t dead.

God, what had she done to deserve this? Comeuppance perhaps for murdering her first husband without a shred of remorse. Now she would be forced into the company of the devil himself?

And what the fuck was wrong with Sotza anyway? Who decided they wanted to get married after a single meeting? To the woman he’s supposed to dispose of. The whole concept was bizarre and crazy. But she knew enough about the man that he would be determined once he set a course of action. If he wanted Vee to become his wife, he would do everything in his power to make it happen.

And she was going to do anything and everything she could to get herself out of this sham of an engagement and reclaim her city. Perhaps if he imagined himself in love, or something equally ridiculous, she could eventually get close enough to kill him.

Looking down at the ring that adorned her left hand, Vee did the one thing she knew would declare all-out war with the terrifying man who had just staked his claim on her. She slid the ring off her finger and placed it deliberately on the counter, then turned and stomped back to bed. She would deal with Luis, or what was left of him, and the ring and in the morning.

Chapter Five

Sotza went to ground while Vee spent the next few weeks desperately plotting ways to keep her city safe from him. She sensed him orchestrating her downfall, manoeuvering each player, each hub, playing a chess game with a foregone conclusion. He planned and executed like the ruler of an oppressed kingdom, as though born and bred to destabilize an entire regime without the worry of tarnish to his crown. Which was exactly what he was; born to be king.

Vee knew it was him stamping his presence all overhercity, even if no one else actually saw The Butcher and lived to tell. Other gangs, cartel guys and wannabe kingpins working within Miami toppled as his men moved, cleaning house. They rarely touched Vee’s holdings, except for the dockyard. It was whispered throughout the city, among Vee’s rivals, that she and Sotza had set up a partnership. She knew better. The ruthless cartel boss was just saving her for last. Everyone else was the fucking main course. She was to be his dessert.

“We have to take the dockyard back; it’s a key gateway between Miami and most foreign markets,” Danny explained, a map of the dockyard spread between him and Vee. “The water isn’t near as regulated as air and land.”

Vee nodded in agreement. She knew all that. “Won’t he expect retaliation? He’ll know I’m coming for it.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “It’s been a few weeks and security seems to have gotten lax. He probably thinks you’re giving it up for now and focusing effort on tightening security on your other investments, yeah? Plus, he’s concentrating on the Cubans at the moment. I’m telling you, boss, now is the time to strike. Tonight.”

She nodded thoughtfully a slight frown creasing her brows. Sotza didn’t seem like the type to let security go lax around a key point. He was not a stupid man by any stretch. So, what was he playing at? But, Danny was also correct. They needed to strike while Sotza was looking the opposite way. If they could somehow bring the Venezuelans to their knees she would stand a fighting chance.

“Okay,” Vee agreed, nodding sharply. “We go in tonight. But we go in quiet, as little noise as possible. Take them out one at a time if we can, just in case this is some kind of trick to draw us in.”

“Vee…” he started to say.

“I’m going,” she snapped, cutting him off. “Non-negotiable. I’ll meet you in a few hours. Have an entry plan ready for us and several exit plans in case anything happens. Bring as many guys as you think we’ll need, but make sure they know how I want this going down. No mistakes, no casualties, you hear me?”

He nodded, his face set in grim lines as he turned away. She sighed and left him to let himself out, going to her room to see what she had for stealthy dockyard takeover wear. Though he balked, Danny understood that she needed to be present for business meetings and such. But he absolutely despised when she insisted on joining the men for combat situations. Too fucking bad, she was the boss. She refused to send her people into places and situations she wouldn’t enter into herself. She may not be as combat ready as most of the men on her payroll, but she was fast, and she had a few tricks up her sleeve.

Chapter Six

Stumbling from her front door into her kitchen, Vee snatched up a clean glass from the sink and twisted the tap for cold water, desperately wishing she had something stronger in her house. The dried blood on her skin smeared across the glass as her hands became wet. She didn’t bother to wash it away. What was the point? She had so much blood on her hands, what was a few drops more?

She placed a shaking hand on her forehead, smearing more blood on her face and in her hair, as she drank the entire glass of water. It quenched her thirst and helped to steady her a little. Lowering the glass, she filled it once more, this time drinking with a little more grace and less of the desperation she’d been feeling since she flung herself in her Maserati at the dockyard and drove home.

She hadn’t turned on any lights when she came in, preferring the shadows. It was what she did, lived in the dark. At first it had been a reaction to her circumstances, constantly hiding, knowing that enemies could see her if she surrounded herself by light. Then she got used to the dark, treating it like an old friend. So much so, she no longer needed light to forge a path in her home.

Placing her glass on the counter she reached down and unzipped first one boot, then the other, allowing them to fall to the floor. She was usually a tidy person, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about where her things landed right at the moment. Not when lives had been lost. When her own life hung precariously in the balance.

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