He’s wearing an ornate mask, concealing most of his face. t’s white with a bold black sunburst symbol on the forehead, looking almost ceremonial. The lower portion is adorned with intricate gold filigree, accented with small, blood red jewels. His mouth is visible beneath the gold, showing his wide grin and straight white teeth. His skin is inky black, as if it’s painted. Surely he must be the devil himself, come to drag me to hell. A dark hood is pulled over his head, covering any distinguishing features.
His hand skims higher, dragging across the cotton fabric of my panties and up my ribcage. My breathing picks up, my heart racing inside my chest. Why haven’t I screamed? Fought back? Heat builds in my core as his hand grazes the side of my breast, a gasp escaping my lips.
His eyes flick to mine. Even though they’re sunken into the mask, the deep dark brown feels so familiar. His slender fingers find their way around my neck, resting there but not squeezing. My pulse thrums against his skin and he smirks, the white of his teeth a deadly contrast against his black skin.
“Do I make you nervous?” He flexes his fingers, and I swallow instinctively. I move to shake my head, but he grips my chin tightly.
“Do not lie to me, diavolina. I can feel it in your blood. I can smell it on your skin.” He brings his face closer to mine, fear and madness warring for control over my emotions.
I want to reach out and touch him. I want him to touch me. I want him to leave this place and never darken my fucking doorstep again. I can’t let this dance go on any longer, the emotions inside me crashing like waves against a lighthouse in a turbulent storm. I want out.
Jerking my head from his grasp, I move to sit up, wondering once again where the hell Doug is. If he were at theend of my bed where he usually sleeps, the intruder wouldn’t have stood a chance.
“Get the fuck out of my house!” I scoot back on the bed out of his reach, but he just laughs, standing to his full height and towering over me.
“There’s nowhere you can go that I cannot reach you.” He flashes that wicked grin one last time before lunging toward me. The scream I’ve been holding finally rips free.
My body slams onto the hardwood floor, blankets tangled around my legs. Doug barks loudly outside my bedroom door, scratching and pawing at the frame frantically. How the hell did that door get closed in the first place? I would never shut him out of the bedroom. He whines louder and louder as I stumble to my feet, rubbing my sore hip bone.
“Hold on, boy. I’m coming.” As soon as I turn the handle, Doug bursts into the room, sniffing every inch of the floor, the bed, my body, not stopping until he’s covered every surface of the room.
“What the hell happened last night, Dougy? I never have dreamsthatcrazy.” I ask him, rubbing his favorite spot just behind his ears before walking into the kitchen. I stop short, my blood turning to ice in my veins.
The cup that always sits half empty next to my kitchen sink has been cleaned and sits upside down in the drying rack.
six
I havethree laptops set up on the small island in my kitchen, all tracking different shipments leaving different warehouses under my control. I should be worried having this many devices tunneled into the backend of our security feeds, but Breaker assures me there’s no way my security team will know I’m watching. That in and of itself is concerning. I aim to employ the best in the world in all avenues, and I may need to reconsider using the men here in Grovewood on a more permanent basis.
“These two, they’re following the correct routes. But that one? This isn’t the plan. He’s at least 20 miles off course already.” I tell Breaker, watching over his shoulder as he tracks the trucks in question.
“Do you know who should be on that route? If you have an idea, I can access their phones.” His features are set in stone, his gaze laser focused on the screen in front of him as he types line after line of code into some satellite tracking program.
“For this route? Should be my cousins, Angelo and Vicente. There’s no telling who they brought with them. It could be any of a few hundred men. They are supposed to be heading towardsthis route,” I point towards the normal path they would take from one warehouse to another to drop off their regular delivery. “But they’re taking a huge detour. Can you see any reason why?”
“I don’t see any road construction or delays, nothing that would create a need for them to go this way.” Breaker replies, pounding away on his keyboard.
Endless lines of code stream across the screen before a crackling sound echoes through the speakers of his laptop, followed by the sound of Italian curse words. I recognize Angelo’s voice instantly, having grown up with both him and Vicente nearly my entire life. At first, they’re not talking about much. The weather, the drive, the woman Angelo fucked last night. But then the conversation turns to something much more interesting.
“I really don’t think this is a good idea, Vince,” Angelo says, sighing heavily. Breaker and I watch as their truck takes another turn further away from their designated route, and my jaw tenses.
“Luckily, Luca doesn’t pay us to fucking think.” Vince replies, and the betrayal burns deep in my veins.
Breaker’s hands hover over the keyboard for only a moment before he continues typing, running a program that begins recording everything they’re saying. It’s always been a possibility in this life that things could turn out this way. People can always betray you. But there is typically too much fear present for that to be a factor. Evidently, I have failed to instill that kind of terror in the men at my mercy.
“I don’t know, Vince. This isn’t the way things are supposed to go. The family isn't meant to undermine each other this way. I don’t have a good feeling about it. Makes me feel sick,” Angelo groans, and I find a small comfort knowing he doesn’t want to be put in this position.
“Stop bitching, Ange. The job is almost done. I won’t ask you to help with this shit again if this is how you feel, but we’re already in it now. Let’s just finish this delivery and move on.” Vince replies, the sound of papers rustling coming through the speakers.
“And what do you suggest we tell the boss, Vince? What exactly do we tell Sebastian when he asks why half of this fucking shipment is missing?” The fact it’s taken nearly half an hour for one of them to mention my fucking name is infuriating as fuck. I’ve done nothing but take care of every member of this family my entire life, and this is how they repay me? By stabbing me in the fucking back and stealing from me? They will pay in blood for the betrayals they have committed today. Before my mind can wander too far down the rabbit hole on the many ways I will seek my revenge, a knock sounds on the door to my apartment.
Who the hell could be knocking for me? Breaker and I exchange a confused look, both knowing that pretty much everyone I speak to in this town is currently in this room or calls before showing up at my door. Grabbing my pistol from the edge of the island, I brace my shoulder against the door, peeking through the small peephole. The very last person I expect to see on the other side is also the one haunting my dreams since the moment I stepped foot in this town. I slide the gun into the small of my back, releasing the chain on the door and cracking it slightly before smirking down at her.
“Ms. Diaz, to what do I owe this great pleasure?” I ask, my eyes unable to stop from sliding down the length of her perfectly curvaceous body.
She scoffs, rolling her eyes and planting a hand on her hip. That only serves to accentuate her full waist and the flare of her hips even more, making my mouth water. She is fucking delectable. The things I would do with this woman, if only given half a chance.
“I’m not here to talk to you, Sebastard. Is Breaker here?” She cocks her head to the side and tries to peek around my shoulder. I pull the door into my body, preventing her from seeing into the room behind me.
