Page 74 of To Curse A Knight

Though surprising, I was relieved to see it was her and not Vicente or one of his loyal men. Vicente would murder me within moments to set the example and remove me from his list of challenges. This woman might not have such vehement motivations.

“I wasn’t sure if that ploy would work,” she mused. She toyed with the sharpened blade in her grip, holding it casually as if she knew how to use it. “We weren’t convinced you were still alive, but I knew when you tried to rescue me from Vicente that you had a weak point. I’ve been working double shifts, just in case.”

Perhaps her motivations were not so pliable, after all. I had considered the message was a trap to draw me out of hiding, but her involvement was certainly a surprise. How she’d known to manipulate me was another thing altogether.

A brittle laugh escaped her full lips as she assessed my dubious expression. “I know I’m not your weak point, Aaron. You didn’t even bother to learn my name.” Her tone bordered on playful, its upturned lilt suggesting this was all a game. “It wouldn’t have mattered. It wouldn’t have been my real one.”

The fuzz in my brain waged war as I pulled the strand of a murky memory. She had shown up to our ribbon-cutting day. I had only glimpsed her, but I’d known she was there.

“Who are you?”

I folded the words over my tongue as I stared back at the beautiful woman who’d once satisfied my every sexual need for a healthy paycheck. We held no loyalty to each other, no pretense of connection, despite the connection of our bodies once upon a time. Simply a transactional relationship.

How could I use that transaction to my benefit? I worked through the puzzle pieces of my thoughts as my brain fought to put them back together.

“My name—my real name,” she corrected, “is Carmen Delgado. You have been my prize for a long time, Aaron Rodriguez.”

The name was not one I knew.

“I’m afraid your name means nothing to me.” I shrugged one shoulder in both an admission and to loosen the fibers against my skin. I’d trained to release myself from such devices, though I hadn’t been tied up for anything but bondage play in two decades. My lack of practice would be my downfall.

Her smile widened, her straight teeth resembling fangs in the ominous air. “Of course it doesn’t, you uncultured bear,” she cooed, condescending to me as if I were a child. “Why would you suspect the woman you paid to wet your cock would be the very assassin hired to kill you?”

A lesser man might cower in fear; I was not trembling in my boots—my interest was piqued. Who would hire someone to assassinate me when Kellan had already been tasked with the job? We’d kept our list of enemies small over the years, and we held most of the power. I was at a loss.

Unless…

“Who do you work for?”

Her grin mimicked a shark’s maw, with far more menace. “For a man who needed such assurances that you wouldactuallyend up dead. There is some mistrust in the family right now, I’m afraid.”

She waved her hand airily, and the dagger glinted in the soft golden light with each movement.

So, Antonio then.Kellan had admitted the relationship with his father was eroding; we had commiserated over our parentage together one evening. Our fathers would certainly put failsafes in places to ensure our follow-through. Had I been tasked with the same directive, no doubt Vicente would do the same. Familial trust was a myth in this business. Our blood was not thicker than water or wine; it thinned with every breach of disappointment until the bond was broken altogether.

I continued the micro-shifting of my muscles against the nylon cords, grateful for the cheaper suit wool that would work against the rope on my behalf. A more expensive fabric would tear.Rojo’s suit may become the luckiest garment in my possession.

“And what is it you plan to do with me?” My voice remained calm—disassociated from the panic of the situation and the ravenous gleam in her eye that hungered for my death. “And what can I do to change your mind?”

“Oh, you won’t be changing my mind,cerdito,” she taunted and held the shimmering blade to my throat. “But I get paid more for prolonging your suffering, so we will be here a while.”

Without pause, she plunged the dagger deep into my abdomen. White hot pain consumed my insides and I fought to maintain consciousness. My hands almost free from the cords, I pasted my lips shut, determined not to give her the pained cry she was craving, but the action took every ounce of self-control I bore.

She stepped back, cocking her head to admire the blood staining through the crisp shirt.

“Beautiful,” she breathed, the sadistic gleam of a killer finally entering her gaze. “You’re about to become your own work of art, Mr. Rodriguez. I hope you enjoy painting with blood.”

Theknife drove into the muscle of my thigh, ripping the flesh into jagged tissue beforeI fell back into the bliss of unconsciousness.

Tap, tap, tappity, tap.

Tap, tap, tippy-tap, tappity-tippy, tap, tap.

Tap, tap, tap—Christ, this was boring.

How Mr. Roboto had convinced me to be the driver of this rescue mission that was sure to get us both killed—by Blondie,notany baddies—was still a mystery to me. I’d been wrapping up a goodbye lunch with Gertie, using the very bogus excuse that my work visa was no longer valid if my employer was incarcerated, when I’d received his text.

That the Robot had no one else to call on for this madness was not lost on me, but you could bet I’d take advantage of some bonding time with the broody no-longer-a-businessman. And we had a nice heart-to-heart alongside the mission. I was gonna be calling him Daddy in no time.

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