The Lozano-Villegas alliance had always been shaky.Lourdes’s marriage to Jacobo sealed the deal seven years earlier until Jacobo’s untimely death loosened the stitches.On paper, Gerardo Villegas’s plan to sacrifice Lourdes in a political marriage was sound.Keep the cartels united, shuffle assets, consolidate power—Diego Zayas was the perfect instrument to do so.
Except Lourdes didn’t have a damn say in the matter.
All this could’ve been avoided had that fucking ass Villegas accepted Enrique’s proposal.Absconding with the Villegas princess was grounds for war.Had he kept his foolhardy ideas locked in the back of his mind, he would’ve flown to Durango the following week with Rubén, the man’s inner circle, and Rubén’s family for the wedding.Instead, he’d concocted a lie, claiming he needed space to detox.Mentally prepare.Let go of what might’ve been.
While in truth, he’d set his plan into motion like some half-baked Romeo with a death wish.
“Does anyone know you’ve done this?”Glancing away, Lourdes picked at her cuticles.“Rubén or any of your other friends?”
“Of course not.Domingo might figure it out.I learned from him how to hack the security surveillance in your building.No one saw me break in or carry you out.”
She dragged in a chest-shuddering breath.“Domingo is the computer hacker, the one with the curly, pretty hair?”
Irritation shot through him.He eased off the gas pedal around a curve, then sped up on a long, straight stretch and side-eyed her.“You’ve noticed his hair?”
“Back at the fundraiser Rubén hosted a few months ago.”Blush darkened her cheeks.“All your friends are handsome.Even a dead woman would see that.”
“Domingo is going to be a dead man if you compliment his hair again.”
A smile curled her lips before she slumped her shoulders.“You should’ve asked me to dance that night, or I should’ve asked you.Papá hadn’t made the deal with Diego yet, so maybe he would’ve seen a spark between us and acted on it.Then again, if Papá knows I want something, he usually does his best to make sure I never get it.”
“I was working,” Enrique bit out, having long regretted not taking Rubén’s advice to pursue her then.
The fundraiser for heart disease research and awareness had drawn in an insane amount of money and kept the Lozano Cartel in the public’s good graces—a task Enrique had taken upon himself to oversee since Rubén had been busy staking his claim on Drina.
“You looked amazing in that silver dress.I wanted nothing more than to rip it off you.”As another smile curved up her cheeks, he mentally patted himself on the back.
Before that evening, he hadn’t seen Lourdes since she refused his advances right after Jacobo’s death.
For being a cartel princess, her parents—at least her father—sure treated her like dog shit.He would never understand it.The Villegas jefe had everything he could ever want, except a son to carry on his legacy.As if that gave him the right to insult Lourdes and bargain her life away whenever he pleased.The idiot should be grateful he had a beautiful, smart, kind woman for a daughter.
A green road sign loomed ahead.
Twenty kilometers to some backwater he didn’t care to visit.Farms and homesteads dotted the valley, a far cry from the glittering high-rises and whitewashed Colonial structures in his home city.A beat-up truck loaded down with straw clunked down a side road, kicking up dirt clouds, and pulled onto the old highway in front of him.Grumbling under his breath, he scowled as bits of straw flew off and smacked the SUV’s windshield.
“What does that flashing light mean?”Lourdes pointed at the dash.
Mierda.Shit.He pulled onto the shoulder, plumes of dirt ballooning, and killed the engine.“We need gas.Stay inside.”He stepped out into the late-morning heat and slammed the door shut behind him.The tension and lust fighting for supremacy in the vehicle could cut through stone.Inhaling deeply of the fresh country air, he flapped the lapels of his lightweight leather jacket for a breeze and stretched his arms above his head until his back popped.Relief spiraled through him.The serenity of shrubs, spindly trees, and tall grasses that stretched toward the western mountains dulled the razor-edge of anxiety thrumming in his blood.Keys in hand, he rounded the vehicle and unlocked the trunk for a spare gas can and funnel.
Lourdes followed him out.“Ow.Stupid pebbles.Why are you carrying around all these gas cans?”She shifted her feet and frowned at the three large containers in the trunk.“Are you allergic to filling stations?”
“The surveillance cameras there will record us.”He popped open the latch and unscrewed the cap.“Get back inside.You aren’t wearing shoes.”
“That’s because you kidnapped me.”
Sighing, he poured in the astringent, foul-smelling gasoline.“Shoes are in your luggage.”
“You went through my stuff?Of course, you did.Why would I think you have any sense of personal boundaries after all this?”She spread her arms toward the patches of trees and wheat fields in the near distance.“I’m surprised you brought my stuff.Don’t most kidnapping thugs like their women barefoot, barely dressed, and completely dependent on them?”
Carajo.An image of Lourdes in a silk nightie, handcuffed, and kneeling at his feet flashed through his mind.Heat flushed his face.“If you want a spanking that bad, I’ll give it to you.Otherwise, get your fucking shoes on.”He growled the words, damn grateful he had the gas can in his hands—or they’d be roaming over her body before she could blink.
Growling her own bout of frustration, she swung open the rear door and climbed into the backseat.
A headache throbbed in his temples.Once he filled the tank and locked up the trunk, he leaned against the side panel and pulled his disassembled smartphone from his inner jacket pocket.He pieced it back together—battery, SIM, cover—then powered it on.The screen lit up with a buzz.Dozens of missed call and text notifications.All from Rubén.He checked the latter, each text angrier than the last.The final three churned his stomach.
—Lourdes is still missing.The bodyguard said someone jumped him from behind.Stabbed him with a syringe.What have you done?—
—Are you out of your goddamned mind?If she’s with you, you’ll pay for this.—
