As the sleek vehicle approached and came to a stop, I admired its impeccable exterior, immediately falling for it--a vintage Monte Carlo in perfect condition. I was curious why it was here amongst all the Rolls Royce and Bentleys. I strained to see the driver through the dark-tinted windows but could not make out their features. Suddenly, the driver's door opened, and my heart skipped a beat. He stepped out and stared at me from across the roof of the car. His lips curved into a smile, but it lacked any warmth or friendliness.

  How was it possible that I ran into him again?

  “Late night walk?”

  “Something like that,” I replied, not giving away too much information.

  He walked around the front of the car and approached the passenger side door. I watched him with cautious eyes. He was dressed in a white button-down shirt that seemed to have been tailored specifically for his perfectly sculpted body, paired with black slacks that fit just as well. It appeared as though he had just come from a business meeting or a night out. It wasn’t as if he had a legitimate nine-to-five that required overtime. On the other hand, I appeared completely out of place in this neighborhood. He swung open the door and immediately fixed his gaze on me, scanning my entire body. The intrusive evaluation felt like a searing iron pressed against my skin.

  We stood still, neither of us moving or saying anything. I wasn't naive; I knew exactly what he wanted me to do. However, I refused to comply just because he expected it. I briefly considered walking away, but for my own safety, I stayed put. He looked amused by my silent defiance and slid his hand into the pocket of his slacks in a nonchalant manner.

  "Get in the car, Elena," he ordered calmly, his voice carrying an air of authority that brooked no argument.

  "Why would I do that?" I quickly scanned the empty street, noting that he had come alone.

  "Because if you don't, anjinho, I'll have you brought to me in a far less courteous manner."

  A knot formed in my stomach, and I felt a wave of fear wash over me. My rational side screamed for me to resist and not get into the car with him. But deep down, I knew there was no use in defying him. My mind was filled with countless questions as I removed my headphones and walked towards him. With each step, I felt a sense of dread settle over me. I anxiously watched him as he opened the door for me and guided me inside. As he closed the door and returned to the driver's seat, my mind was racing with a mix of emotions - fear, anger, and a dangerous curiosity.

  He returned to the driver's seat and leaned over, causing me to jump. He didn't mention my startled response, but he laughed softly as he pulled the seatbelt across my lap.

  “You need to stop sneaking out late at night. Consider yourself lucky that we're in my city. Anywhere else, and this conversation would be very different.”

  His words sparked a mix of anger and surprise within me as he seemed to know about my nightly habits. “Are you having me followed?”

  He gave me a look I couldn't decipher. “Of course. I always have someone keeping an eye on you.”

  My stomach twisted into knots at his admission, and the ground beneath my feet felt like it was falling away. He said it so casually, and I knew he was telling the truth. All those times last week when I felt like I was being watched, there must have been someone around me because of him. It wasn't just my imagination running wild. Even tonight, when I thought the streets were empty, there must have been someone hiding somewhere.

  But why? Why was he watching me? The only reason I could think of was because of my sister.

  “Why do you have eyes on me?”

  He made a sharp U-turn in the middle of the street, not answering me. As he drove, I settled back. The scent of his cologne wrapped around me, audacious warm cinnamon and blood mandarin. It was the type of fragrance that lingered in your memory. Something about it was loosely familiar, but I wasn’t in a position to ask him about it.

  “Just relax,” he said in a gentle tone.

  Impossible. But I did let go of the door handle, which was practically embedded into my palm. Attempting to calm myself with a quiet breath, I glanced over at him. “Where are you taking me?”

  “For breakfast. Where else?”

  “You...you kidnapped me for breakfast?” I couldn't help but ask, incredulously.

  He chuckled lightly. “You got into my car on your own accord. That's hardly kidnapping.”

  His amusement only made me more annoyed. “Where are we going?” I repeated.

  “I already told you.”

  “I'm not really a breakfast person.”

  “You should be. It's the most important meal of the day.”

  His seriousness almost made me laugh out loud, so I had to bite my cheek to keep from doing so.

  “I told you we’d talk soon, yes?”

  “Yes,” I replied briskly. He had said that, and I didn’t forget. Forgetting him was a feat I wasn’t sure I could accomplish. I knew the moment he approached me at the venue there was a reason why. I could only hope to have the answer after this was done.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MATEO

  I didn’t ask any questions.

  I gave her space for a few minutes, mentally organizing the tasks I had to complete in just a few hours. Deliveries of cocaine were on their way to an unknown destination, cash needed to be laundered and divided evenly, and plans for a new neighborhood development were in progress. These tasks could wait - a benefit of being my own boss, but I preferred to handle everything efficiently and promptly.

  If things ever got too tight, Elias would act on my behalf with full authority. He was one of the few men I trusted to make decisions for me, aside from my cousin Angel. However, he was currently out of reach and tended to take drastic measures without hesitation. While this quality served him well on the illegal side of our business, it wasn't ideal for handling legal matters.

  Sergio, on the other hand, struggled with interpersonal skills and often didn't work well with others. Collectively, we all kept things running smoothly, just in different areas. At the moment, my main focus was on Elena and getting us to our destination. I didn’t like her late-night walks, but tonight they worked in my favor. There was a lingering irritation with her hesitating to get into my car, soothed only by the knowledge the alternative would’ve been her fighting me. It was too early in our relationship for that.

  “What year is this?” Her soft voice pulled me from my thoughts.

  I glanced over and saw she was trailing her fingers along the ridges of the white bucket seat; her nails freshly painted a deep shade of maroon. “Seventy-four. Do you like it?”

  “Yeah…”

  She didn’t reveal her father had one just like it, but her speaking at all was a step in the right direction.

  The route we were taking offered little scenery after leaving our neighborhood, and silence had settled between us. Elena remained alert, fearful but not close to terror. That was good. It would’ve been a problem were she to be lax around me. Eventually, I turned and coasted into a parking lot. Elena leaned forward and peered through the windshield, causing her long hair to curtain the side of her face.

  “You were serious about breakfast?”

  “If you’d rather I took you to one of my rooms with four stone walls and a concrete floor, I’d be happy to oblige. I wouldn’t mind seeing you bound and gagged.”

  She looked over at me, diverting her gaze the second we made eye contact. “I’ll take a raincheck on that.”

  I grinned and cut the ignition. “In that case, it’s time you and I had a talk.” Exiting the car, I caught a glimpse of her wary expression as I slammed my door.

  She got out and followed me into the diner, sliding into a cherry red booth of my choosing so that we were facing one another. There was only one other person inside, an older man who looked half asleep in a back corner.

  “Get whatever you want.” I slid her a menu without needing one for myself.

  Paula, the wife of the man I had purchased the place from years ago, shuffled over ready to take our orders. “Hey Hun, didn’t expect to see you today.”

  She never expected to see me. She was also the only woman I’d allow to address me like that. Paula had worked for my family for well over a decade, cleaning money and making sure the basement of the diner was always ready for whenever it was needed. She had skin in this game and bigger balls than some of the men I knew. Gerald, her late husband, had gone above and beyond for me and the men I kept close without complaint. It was a selfless act we’d never forgotten.

  I bought the diner and made sure they could live comfortably long before an aggressive form of lung cancer took the cutthroat bastard out. Paula still got up every day and came in to run it alongside his brother Franco, who doubled as a chef.

  “I want my usual, and she wants…”

  “The poached egg.”

  “Got it. How do you like your toast? Wheat or white?”

  “Wheat is fine.”

  “And to drink?” Paula inquired with a gentle smile.

  “Orange juice, please.”

  “I’ll have that right out.” She collected the menus and shuffled off towards the kitchen.

  Elena looked around the diner, taking it all in before she focused her beautiful eyes on me. “You eat here often?”

  I’d wondered how long it would take her to pick up on that.

  “Often enough. It’s one of the rare establishments I place true value on.”

  She appeared pensive for a moment, thanking Paula when she brought our drinks over—Elena’s orange juice and my coffee, black with no sugar. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

  “We can get to that after you’ve eaten.”

  She opened her mouth but then decided against whatever she was going to say. We fell into a semi-companionable silence after that, which continued until the food came, up until I had to exercise patience as she stared at her plate but made no effort to eat.

  “If you don’t start eating, I’ll have no choice but to feed you myself. You don’t want to offend the cook.”

  "I'm actually not very hungry."

  “Did I ask if you were?”

  Reaching across the table, I picked up her fork and added a piece of her poached egg before bringing it to her mouth.

  “Eat,” I directed, gesturing toward the plate in front of her.

  She looked at me with a mixture of shock and resignation, but she didn't put up a fight. She took the bite I offered without any further arguments. Whether or not she was actually hungry was irrelevant to me. It was obvious that she had not been taking care of herself. As much as I hated to admit it, she would be no use to me if she was sickly. Besides the noticeable weight loss, it was clear that she had been crying. Her face was swollen and puffy, but still undeniably beautiful.

  It killed me to know that I wasn't the reason for her tears, that I hadn't been there to taste them as they fell from her eyes. After feeding her another bite, she took the fork from me and started eating on her own. I watched her, noting her every move and facial expression. Elena was alluring in a way I found more desirable than anyone I’d ever encountered.

  I was surrounded by beautiful women, the likes of which stayed dolled up even as they slept. Elena would surpass them at her worst. She was an enigma--a blend of fierce beauty and haunting vulnerability. Her long, dark hair framed a face that was both delicate and strong, with eyes that seemed to hold the weight of the world in their depths. They captivated him, those eyes—dark and expressive, often reflecting a storm of emotions she tried so hard to keep in check. Her skin, a warm, sun-kissed tone, hinted at her heritage and added to her allure.

  Her lips were full and enticing, often set in a determined line but capable of breaking into a smile that could disarm even the most guarded of men. The way she held herself, with an air of defiance and a touch of grace, spoke of someone who had seen too much but refused to be broken by it. I saw not just the woman she presented to the world but the one she hid from everyone, including herself.

  Without a doubt, I knew that Elena was both a prize to be claimed and a challenge to be met. She was the kind of woman who could stand beside me even after I broke her down, and still maintain identity. That, more than anything, was what fascinated me the most.

  As we sat there, I made the decision to burn her sweatpants. They were too effective in highlighting the roundness of her ass, and it wasn't fair for her to expect me to always be there to defend her against anyone who took a look. Once she’d eaten a few more bites, she took a sip of her drink and then sat back in the same way I had, gesturing to my untouched plate. “You haven’t eaten anything.”

  “No, but you have and that’s all that matters.”

  She reached out and began fiddling with a napkin, a sign she was growing uncomfortable. I debated if I should get right into things or be a considerate gentleman for five minutes. I went with the latter.

  For Elena, I would try my hand at being a saint for a day if the situation called for it. “Would you like to get anything off your chest? I'm an excellent listener and can

  Her gaze dipped to the table, and I had to refrain from grabbing her face to make her look at me again. “I’d much rather discuss whatever it is that has you suddenly interested in me and why we’re here.”

  Thank fuck. In truth, I didn’t give a damn about her losses. How could I when they were my gain? But the last part of her statement didn't sit well with me. “My interest is anything but sudden, anjinho. And a man taking a woman to breakfast isn’t all that unusual.”

  Her brows furrowed. “Right…but you aren’t just any man, and this isn’t just breakfast. You’re very Baron von Rotten-ish.”

  I didn’t know who the fuck that was, but they sounded important. The fact she realized who sat across from her had me fighting back a grin.

  “And what would that make you, Elena?”

  She grew quiet once more. I watched her struggle to find words and as something else slithered into her gaze, poorly veiled curiosity joining an emotion I was well acquainted with.

  Fear.

  Perhaps of me or what I could do to her. Maybe both. If only she knew what I inevitably would do to her.

  It was all so stimulating.

  With a slight clearing of her throat, her mask was back in place. It was amusing that she believed I couldn’t see right through it. “How much do you know about me?”

  “The better question is what don’t I know about you?”

  “I imagine there’s not much you haven’t already figured out.”

  There was a silent but in there somewhere. I was eager to learn what she thought I didn’t know. However, I wouldn’t reveal my full hand and ruin the fun.

  “You’d be correct in that assumption. But why don’t we get to why I really brought you out here?” I began, pleased when her attention didn’t waver. “You need me,” I stated plainly.

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  She slowly shook her head. “I don’t understand why you’d think that. If anything, what I need is to stay away from you.”

  “Is that why you got into my car and allowed me to bring you to this rural diner?”

  “You make it sound as if I planned this. You didn’t give me much of a choice.” She tucked some of her hair behind one ear and then reached for her orange juice.

  “I allowed you to choose. For the record, you choose wisely.”

  “I don’t…” she trailed off and took a breath to try and conceal her frustration. “I don’t want to talk in circles.”

  “We have that in common.”

  I could feel the anger radiating off her as I continued to toy with her.

  "What do you want?" she asked, her grip tightening on her fork. I could tell she wanted nothing more than to stab me with it, and I wouldn't have minded seeing her try.

  "Do I really need to spell it out for you?"

  "Can't you just tell me?" She dropped the fork, causing me to chuckle at her frustration. We were going to have so much fun together.

  "Let's get back on track," I said, trying to focus on the task at hand. My phone had been vibrating nonstop in my pocket since we sat down, so now wasn't the time to push her too far. There would be plenty of opportunities for that later.

  "I assume this isn't about what kind of person my sister was," she said quietly.

  I kept my expression neutral. Most people knew exactly what kind of person her sister was; it wasn't a secret.

  The only one who seemed oblivious was Elena. But that wasn't what I was asking her, and she knew it. Trying to deflect or redirect wouldn't work with me. If she wanted to play games, she'd quickly learn that I always had the upper hand. I was always steps ahead. And most importantly, I always won.

  “I know you’re naïve, Elena, but not to the extent that you have no idea what’s happening around you or what I could possibly mean.”

  She scanned the diner, pausing on the elderly gentleman who was now peacefully asleep, thanks to Paula's spiked coffee. We couldn't afford any loose ends. "Do you really want to discuss this here?"

  I tilted my head. "I thought you might feel more comfortable here than alone with me at my house. But we could always go to that other room I mentioned." Neither location would necessarily be safe for her, but for now, I needed to create a trap with sweet lies and half-truths. It would be for her own good.

  "Right," she sighed. "I assumed this was about Eva, but I wasn't sure what your intentions were."

  "There was never anything between your sister and me," I interjected quickly. She sounded resigned, which I didn't like. It wouldn't be far-fetched for her to think I only pursued her because of the disaster that was her twin. That wasn't entirely true. "My interest has always been in you, Elena."

  "But why? Where did it come from if not from my sister?"

  Ah, I had made a mistake. It didn't happen often, but it happened sometimes. I couldn't fix her self-esteem issues in a small-town diner, so I wasn't going to try. I knew it was something I would have to build back up after breaking it down, but I hadn't considered it during this conversation. “Elena, any man with eyes and half a brain would want you. Unlike me, they wouldn't have the slightest clue how to handle you once you were in their grasp."