Page 8 of Savage Sin

I push past her and head for the side door she busted through. It leads to an underground chamber and to Gabriella. I look back at my mother. “Now’s your chance to make a wrong against your family right. You can pick the man who’s raped your daughter or come with us and find peace. A new life. Either way, your daughters are leaving. Tonight.”

Tears burn and fall down my cheeks. “Por favor, mamá.”

I reach for her hand, but she jerks back and moves away. The scent of warm plums, cigar smoke, and fear carry over a warm breeze from the open window.

Her words come back to me.

“Wait. He knows? You told him?”

“Mija, I’m sorry. I had to. You don’t understand. I told him your plans to save your life.” She holds onto the desk like her knees will give out if she lets go.

My stomach drops to the floor.

I tear across the short distance and grip her shoulders. “What! We both know he won’t let Gabriella live after the baby is born. And if he does, he’ll continue breeding her like some machine. I have to get her out of here. How could you betray us like this?”

Joaquin wants an army and who better to give it to him than the daughters of the man he replaced? I can’t prove it, but I know my father’s best friend killed him for his criminal crown. I know it like I know he wants me to birth his next baby.

Fat tears marked with mascara run down my mother’s cheeks and it breaks my heart. But what really puts the fire in my anger is seeing the bruises on her face she tries to hide under a tone of makeup. And the fresh gash in her lip I failed to see until now. Once Joaquin found out she can no longer provide him an heir, he lost all interest in the aging woman.

Fragments of my heart break anew. Fear can make a strong person weak.

“It’s not too late,mamá. All I have to do is reveal everything about Cortes’ drug ring, his trade routes, connections, bank accounts. All of it. We will be safe.”

“No, mija, the second you opened that laptop. It was over—”

“—he knew he was being betrayed.”

We both jump at the baritone, cigar roughened voice that rumbles through the cavernous room. Comprehension strikes at my heart with the force of a lightning bolt.

“Joaquin.” I keep the fear out of my voice, but the surprise is still there. It cost me to discover all the ins and outs of Joaquin’s security system. Apparently, the asshole didn’t know every single detail. Like the laptop camera being set to trigger an alarm.

I mentally tap the flash drive and hope the camera didn’t catch me putting it into my pocket.

“Did you expect someone else?”

I shrug. I know better than to waste my efforts on questions that don’t need answering. He’s wearing white pants and a cotton shirt with gold weaved into columns up the sides. A whisper of a dark beard draws the eye to his jawline and from there the elegant cut of his cheekbones and aquiline nose give him the features of a model. Broad shoulders, rich brown skin and his formidable height complete the alluring package. But it’s his amber eyes that lure women in. He’s beautiful, I’ll admit. But it is only skin deep. Behind the mask, he’s a viper, ready to poison anyone who gets too close.

My mother is proof of how deadly beauty can be.

“Did you come in here looking for something?”

“Money,” I evade and weave. It’s not a lie. I was looking for money and found lots of it.

“Ahh,si. Dinero. And did you find that money on my computer,mi amor?”

My stomach churns with acid at the use of his endearment. But I push away the nausea with the knowledge of knowing I found exactly what I needed—offshore bank accounts and names of laundering fronts for starters. That alone should earn us WITSEC.

But I keep my lips sealed.

The door behind him comes open a fraction more, and another man comes into view.

A Colombian drug lord and a Russian Bratva man walk into a room. It’s not the start of a poor joke, but a beginning streak of bad luck for me.

A few details stand out first. Joaquin’s new partner has on a three-piece suit in the middle of a Texas summer. That makes him a dumbass. Second, only death can match the paleness of his eye color. But most importantly he has a gun pointed at my face. That makes him a deadly dumbass.

Great.

“I would like to introduce you to my new partner, Silas Antonov.” Joaquin’s accent is thick, sinister and exudes danger. Harsh angles of his face make him appear handsome when he’s not talking or ordering someone’s death.

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