ANMELDENIn his rearview mirror, Manuel saw Zoya standing there, her mouth open in shock. He'd definitely have to make that up to her. Later. He grabbed his phone and called Carlos. "Already done with your baby?" Carlos's voice was full of amusement. "Damn, I didn't know it was always so fast with you." "Shut the fuck up," Manuel retorted. "Nice try, lover boy, but I'm right behind you." "Why? I can totally handle this alone." "Bros before hoes, remember?" There was a pause. "Maybe she's not as important to you as I thought. Seeing how much attention you gave her, I misunderstood her importance." Manuel's jaw tightened. "What are you trying to say?" Carlos chuckled. "I'm saying I'd choose my princess over you any day, any time." "Ouch. That really hurt my feelings." "We're here." Manuel spotted Carlos's car pulling up to a house in a quiet residential neighborhood. He parked farther down the street, in a spot where he could watch the building without being obvious. "S
Manuel Navarro had never been obsessed with a woman before. He'd had plenty of women. Beautiful women. Willing women. Women who knew exactly what they were getting into when they climbed into his bed. He enjoyed them, pleased them, and sent them on their way without a second thought. But Zoya. Damn it, Zoya. For two days, she'd haunted him. Her taste. Her scent. The sounds she'd made when she came apart in his arms. The way she'd looked at him afterward, like she couldn't decide whether to kiss him or kill him. He'd told her to meet him at the club tonight. Told himself that if she didn't show up, that would be the end of it. He'd move on. Find someone else. Forget about the brunette with the fire in her eyes and sin on her lips. But he was lying to himself, and he knew it. If she didn't show up tonight, he would hunt her down. He would find her no matter where she tried to hide. Because whatever this was between them, it wasn't finished yet. He sat at his usual table
Maya Suarez stood at the entrance of Rican College, guilt weighing heavy on her chest like a stone she couldn't dislodge. Six months. Carlos had been gone for more than six months now, and she'd been physically attending classes for three of those months. At first, she'd resisted. Online classes seemed safer, easier, a way to hide from the world while she waited for him to come back. But Aunt Patricia had worn her down with that quiet persistence of hers. "Carlos worked so hard to give you and Star new identities," her aunt had said, her voice gentle but firm. "He sacrificed everything to give you opportunities. Don't waste them, sweetheart." So Maya had enrolled. Had shown up to classes. Had gone through all the motions of being a student while feeling like a ghost haunting her own life. But she'd made a terrible mistake. Carlos had given her a new name. Phoebe. It was supposed to protect her, keep her safe from anyone who might come looking for Maya Suarez. Star had emb
The morning light filtered through the curtains with cruel gentility, illuminating the chaos of scattered clothes and tangled sheets. Zoya's eyes fluttered open, her body aching in ways that made her breath catch—not entirely from pain. She turned her head slowly on the pillow, and her heart seized. Manuel sat beside her on the bed, half naked, watching her with unreadable eyes. Shock paralyzed her for a heartbeat before hot tears spilled down her cheeks. "Are you going to call the cops right now?" His voice was silk over steel, amused and lethal all at once. A smile broke through her tears, unbidden and genuine. The absurdity of it—that he thought she was some ordinary woman he'd subdued and conquered. Manuel's head tilted, a predator's curiosity flickering across his handsome face. "Oh, you're smiling and crying at the same time. What should I make of this?" Zoya forced steadiness into her voice, channeling every lesson from her training. "What do you want then? Do y
Manuel kept sitting, his eyes burning into Zoya with an intensity that made her skin prickle. This man was dangerous—she'd known it from the moment she'd seen him at the club. Now here they were. As Zoya knelt before him, Manuel instructed, his voice filled with desire. "Suck my cock, cupcake." Immediately, Zoya's hands went to his belt, her hands shivering as she freed his cock with swift, determined movements. Manuel's breath caught the moment her hand wrapped around his cock and she began to stroke him. When she took him in her mouth, the guttural sound that tore from his throat sent liquid heat pooling between her thighs. His hand fisted in her hair, rough, possessive, and she surrendered completely to the rhythm as he pushed her head up and down. The taste of him, the weight and heat of his cock on her tongue, the way his breathing became ragged and desperate, made her moan around him, her own desire spiking dangerously. His muscles tensed, his grip tightening,
MONTHS LATER The bass from the club's sound system thrummed through the floor, vibrating up through Carlos's chest as he and Manuel settled into a corner booth. The lighting was dim, pulsing with blues and purples that cast shifting shadows across their faces. Around them, the crowd moved like a living thing—bodies pressed together on the dance floor, laughter and conversation mixing with the heavy beat of the music. Carlos's eyes swept the room methodically, cataloging exits, noting faces, searching for one man. His fingers drummed against the leather seat, a nervous habit he'd developed over the past month of waiting, planning, and systematically dismantling the empire his family had built. "Relax," Manuel said, signaling the waitress. "Felix will show. Our contact confirmed he'd be here tonight." "I'll relax when this is over," Carlos replied, his voice barely audible over the music. "When Felix gives us what we need." They ordered drinks—whiskey for Carlos, vodka for Manu







