Se connecterZach didn’t answer fast enough.I looked at Diego. “Papa know?”Diego fired toward the bar. “We only found out when they breached the perimeter.”“The perimeter?” I let out a short laugh. “I went out for a drink. I wasn’t attending a NATO summit.”“Señorita…”“Don’t Señorita me right now, Diego.”Zach turned his head slightly. “Focus.”I stared at his back. “Don’t give me orders like I’m your wife.”“If you were my wife, I would’ve tied you to a chair fifteen minutes ago.”I smiled thinly. “Very healthy fantasy.”He fired to the side without taking his eyes off me. The man trying to move in from the left jerked back, his weapon dropping, his body hitting the floor.Zach kept looking at me.Kept.Looking at me.“This is not the time to fight me,” he said.“I’m not fighting you.”“Krystal.”“I’m considering my options.”“Your option is staying alive.”I didn’t answer.“For once, use that brain of yours to survive instead of stabbing at me.” He moved half an inch closer, close enough tha
The glass blew inward, rough and brutal.A mess.Shards hit the floor, the tables, the shoulders of people ducking for cover. They bounced off my shoes and caught in my hair like confetti from hell.Zach shoved me down with one hand at the back of my neck.My chest hit his waist. My knees slammed into the floor, sticky with tequila and something I very much hoped wasn’t blood.Cheap alcohol, cigarette smoke, sweat, sweet perfume, and gunpowder all tangled in my nose. Five minutes ago, this club had been ugly in a fun way. Now it looked like someone had taken a bad decision, handed it an automatic weapon, and told it to run.“Zach…”“Shut up.”Naturally, a shootout was when his control issues decided to make a full comeback.I resisted the urge to bite his calf.Another shot hit the bar behind us. Bottles shattered. Brown and clear liquor sprayed everywhere like expensive rain with no class. People screamed.A woman crawled under a table with one shoe missing. Nicolás, the guy in the d
He kissed me back.And it should have satisfied me.It should have.But Zach Romano had a way of turning defeat into something that still felt like a win, especially when I was the idiot standing there breathless because of him.His hand cradled the back of my head, his fingers sliding into my hair, already half-loose from the claw clip, pulling me close enough that my breath snagged in my throat. His mouth pushed deeper against mine, and my knees, traitorous little idiots, gave up immediately.Damn it.I kissed him back. I wasn’t a saint, and he wasn’t some moral test I could pass with one quick prayer.Both my hands rose to his neck and locked him, my fingers brushing the warm skin just beneath his hairline. He tensed beneath my fingers, just enough to give himself away. I liked knowing I could do that to him. I liked it too much. So I pulled him closer.A low sound rumbled out of his throat.Music slammed in from every direction. Someone near the bar shrieked with laughter. Shoes c
Shit.Shit shit shit.I turned slowly, very slowly, because some things were easier to face if you didn’t look at them directly. War and taxes... or an ex-kidnapper too handsome for national security.And here he was....Zachary Romano.All sharp eyes, black hair, and expensive danger. The kind of beautiful that made smart women forget they were supposed to know better.He stood too close behind me, wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans, looking unfairly good for a man who had no business being in this club. His short black hair was messy, his bangs falling slightly over his forehead. His eyes were sharp and calm. Too Zach.How long had it been since I last saw that face?I didn’t know.I forgot.But ...lie.I remembered.The last time I saw him, I was still in his bed, breathless, furious, and far too aware of every place he’d touched me. Then he walked away like he hadn’t just ruined me for sport.Longing rose in my chest.Slight. Warm.Ew....I immediately threw it far away, to wh
At a table near the wall, a woman was dancing on top of a plastic chair. Two of her friends cheered. In another corner, a couple was arguing while still holding their drinks, an admirable level of emotional efficiency. Someone dropped a glass. The shards were immediately kicked under a table by a server who didn’t even look back.I set my empty glass on the bar.Nicolás held out his hand. “Dance?”I looked at his hand.Clean. No ring. No bloodstains. No expensive watch that could buy a small apartment. No murderous aura.Refreshing.I took it.The dance floor was hot and too crowded. Bodies moved close, but no one really touched me until I allowed it. Nicolás danced well enough not to be embarrassing. His hand drifted near my waist once, then stopped when I looked at him.I moved with the music, letting the bass take over my mind little by little. My T-shirt slipped on my shoulder. My hair started coming loose from the clip. A thin sheen of sweat gathered at the nape of my neck. I clo
In the foyer, two of Papa’s men were already standing there like they had come out of the walls.Not the overly obvious kind. They wore dark jackets, ordinary faces, extraordinary bodies. One of them, Diego, a man in his forties with a small scar near his chin, looked at my sandals with an expression that was both deeply professional and deeply pained.“Señorita.”“Don’t.”He shut his mouth.I took a car key from the marble bowl by the door. Not the most expensive car in the garage, and not the fastest either. A low black SUV normal enough not to make everyone on the road immediately think cartel princess, though the plates probably still screamed I have family problems.The Medellín night air touched my skin as soon as I stepped outside.Warm. A little damp. Smelling of earth, exhaust, night-blooming flowers, and a city that never really slept.I got into the car, started the engine, then looked in the rearview mirror.One black car came to life a few meters behind me.At the far end
Papa’s coffee grove stretched behind the mansion like a small world that didn’t care who married who or who got kidnapped by whom last month. On the left side, there was Mama’s chili patch, not big at all but guarded like a national border.I dropped onto the oversized rattan daybed beneath a cream
I walked through the long hallway, winding like the fossilized guts of some ancient beast.The villa's floors were dark limestone. The walls thick, with white paint flaking off in places, revealing the coarse coral stone beneath the arched doorways. The arches were tall, absurdly tall, making me fe
A blank sheet of paper sat in front of me. The pen in my hand moved slowly, listing ingredients one by one.My hand was steady, but my mind was somewhere else. Unlatching back doors, calculating surveillance gaps by the second, weighing exit routes if I ever had to sprint barefoot across cold stone
I sat across from him, watching how he bit into the arepita slowly, like a lion testing the taste of its kill before deciding to devour it.His hands, of course, were bigger than mine. Long fingers. Subtle veins along the back of his hand as it curled around the espresso cup.God. How does a man lo