As soon as we walked inside, the madam nodded to the stairs. Without Baris’ knowledge, she’d already sent her girls home for the night. She’d be paid handsomely for the loss of income for use of her building.

  The girl in Baris’ room would also be sent away with a hefty tip. Fortunately, the girls knew better than to open their mouths.

  By the time the madam reopened her doors at noon the next day, the place would be spic and span, not a single sign a man had died a violent death.

  I strolled up the stairs, noticing the only closed door in the hallway. I took a deep breath, shaking my head as a moment of sheer glee entered my system.

  While I should be angry, enraged with his behavior, my experience with Genevieve had put me in a much better mood.

  She’d been charming, beautiful, sensual, and tough. The combination along with her heightened intelligence was irresistible.

  Ignoring my desire for her wasn’t possible. She’d already gotten under my skin. I touched my neck where she’d nicked my skin and grinned just before kicking in the door.

  To date, only two men had ever gotten close enough to draw blood. Both had lost their lives in gruesome ways.

  Maybe it was the fact her perfume continued to linger on my skin that kept me smiling. Whatever the case, even my men had noticed my decent mood when I should have been pissed.

  The girl didn’t scream as I kicked the door in. She simply kicked Baris in the chest in a move that brought a wider smile to my face.

  Maybe the girl had a little bit of Genevieve in her.

  Baris was already panting and sweating. His expression was a knowing one. He realized the moment I’d burst in that his life was in jeopardy.

  “What the fuck do you want?” His English was good enough it appeared he’d had some schooling, either in our country or in the United States or Canada. Not that I cared about his method of education.

  “Just to finish our discussion, Baris.” I took out my favorite knife. It was similar to ones used by men in bush country to cut back weeds or use as weapons when challenged by wild boars. The sharp tip was accented by several jagged teeth. I’d found it useful in convincing men to talk. It was amazing the damage it could do with a single slice.

  My soldiers had piled into the room. Baris was going nowhere, but as anticipated, he dove for his personal items, which obviously included a weapon. Kruz was quick to respond, tossing a knife from his collection. The blade went into Baris’ shoulder, pinning him to the wall.

  His scream was sharp and annoying and like a fool, he tried to jerk his body free.

  I waited for a few seconds before walking toward him very slowly. Blood was already dripping down his arm. Soon, a stream would create a puddle on the floor. It was a shame we weren’t out in the wild. If we were, I’d drive a second knife through his other shoulder and leave him for the beasts to feast on.

  But we were in civilization and that wasn’t possible.

  I pulled my blade into my hand, pressing the tip under his chin much like Genevieve had done to me earlier. “Now, Baris. I’m curious. What do you know about the murder that occurred at the restaurant last night?”

  “What murder?” he gritted out.

  “Come now. I didn’t see you leaving when I did so you were there. A highly respected drug lord was killed. You’re going to tell me you know nothing about it?”

  There was something odd in his eyes that made me reflect on what I was doing. Was it possible he had no clue? Not by his behavior from the night before.

  “I had nothing to do with it.” His fear tingled against my skin, a mere whisper yet pleasing.

  “Oh, you just wanted to kill me.”

  I’ll be damned if the asshole didn’t offer a smile. Was he out of his mind or did he just not care about the knife in my hand?

  “I’ll take that as a yes. I’m sorry you didn’t get the opportunity. I tell you what. If you can get yourself free, you can use the knife and see what you can do. I’ll give you a few seconds to think about it.”

  I wasn’t going to get anything from the man even if I cut off his limbs one by one. Some soldiers lived and died by their honor.

  My honor was entirely different. I couldn’t care less if he was suffering.

  After taking a deep breath, I shook my head. “Time’s up.”

  Fear dilated his pupils.

  Sighing, I turned away, heading toward the door. “Finish him off.”

  “Yes, sir,” one of the hitmen said.

  Kruz shook his head, still watching the horror show unfolding.

  Kruz followed me out of the room, both of us taking similar strides as we headed for the stairs.

  “What do you want to do about Ms. Morales?”

  I knew the question would eventually come up. “We wait at least for forty-eight hours. I need to see what she’s made of. That will tell me how best to handle her.”

  “From what you told me, she’s tough.”

  “Very tough. But you know what they say. The tougher they are, the more delicious they are to break.” I laughed, the sound hearty while I envisioned exactly how I’d bring the lovely woman to her knees with her mouth wide open, her lips wrapped around my cock.

  “You’re such an asshole.” Kruz laughed.

  Yes, I was. More so now than ever.

  CHAPTER 9

  Genevieve

  “Make no mistake, Genevieve. You’ve crossed me. Not a good thing for you to do and I assure you that your punishment will be harsh. And very, very personal.”

  His blanket statement promising both pain and pleasure lingered in my mind.

  “Ugh.” I dropped my head into my hands, avoiding staring at the computer screen for a few moments. I’d been unable to make a selection and, in truth, was incensed that I could select a coffin online. What a ridiculous thing to be able to do. But it had to be done. I needed to finalize the arrangements in the next twenty-four hours.

  How in God’s name was I supposed to end what was left of my father’s life in such a short amount of time? To me, he was still alive. I expected him to walk through the door at any time. I lifted my head in hopeful anticipation, as if I’d just been in a horrible dream I was unable to wake up from.

  The door remained closed.

  I’d demanded personal time without having a guard standing duty. If a sharpshooter wanted to hang in the tall trees fifty feet from the back of the house and take a shot, then he or she should just go for it. At this point, I didn’t care.

  But I had to put on my big girl panties and make the decisions for his funeral and the subsequent lavish affair that always followed such horrible events. I had no clue how I would stomach having people I didn’t know inside my home pretending they’d given a damn about my father or my family. It felt pretentious and heartbreaking.

  The knock on the door was honestly what I needed, a real distraction to keep my mind from swirling into hell.

  Emiliano walked in. He was the only soldier who knew how to handle me. His eyes were filled with concern, but he’d never say a word in front of anyone else. It simply wasn’t done.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked and sat back in my seat. Correction, my father’s chair. I’d always loved the Scandinavian design leather office chair he’d purchased at least fifteen years before. I’d even stolen away, coming into his office like a bad girl just to sit on the soft leather.

  Plus, the room smelled like him and always had.

  Now it was my chair. The thought almost brought another wave of uncontrollable sadness.

  “The men are getting anxious. There’s word on the street of possible issues with shipments and they need to know what to do.”

  “Who is supposedly preparing a hit on our property?”

  He shook his head and I could tell he wasn’t happy about telling me.

  So I made a calculated conjecture. “Jago Torres.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Of course, the intel could be embellished.”

  “No, my guess is what’s been heard is correct.” I eased my head against the headrest, swiveling the chair as much as the edges of the desk would allow. “I’m certain Mr. Torres wasn’t happy when I left his office last night.”

  He walked closer. Instead of wearing a suit, as I’d become accustomed to during his security detail over the past few years, he was wearing black cargo pants and a matching tee shirt. At least the form-fitting material perfectly highlighted my commander’s sculpted muscles.

  For a brief few seconds, my mind faltered, allowing me to return to the night before. Jago was most definitely what most women would call the perfect male specimen. It was too bad he was such an arrogant prick.

  “I mean no disrespect, Madame Morales, but what actually happened with the two of you? You looked like you’d been in a physical fight.”

  My most trusted soldier was sporting a swollen lip from his attempt to break into Jago’s office. The two enemy soldiers holding court at the door had looked much worse.

  I rubbed my finger across my lips. They were still slightly swollen from Jago’s rough kiss. “Let’s just say I helped him understand some women aren’t instant pushovers. Plus, I was able to highlight a few MMA moves of my own.”

  He laughed. It wasn’t often his eyes lit up with amusement. At least today was one of them.

  “You very much remind me of your father. He would be proud of how you’re handling this.”

  Proud. I wasn’t certain how to respond to his sentiment. “I’m acting on instinct.”

  “A damn good one but be careful of Jago. He has a short fuse.”

  “At this point, so do I. Do me a favor, Emiliano, watch my brother. Marco is determined to become a soldier. I don’t want that life for him.”

  “If I may say, just remember your brother is as distraught as you are, likely more so since he hasn’t been given a purpose. All men need a purpose in their lives.”

  “But he’s still a boy.”

  “In your eyes, maybe, but he was forced to grow up much faster than most children. Plus, he’s almost eighteen.”

  Groaning, I rose to my feet. “Don’t remind me, but I suppose you’re right. As much as I hate to admit it. Allow him to train, but by no means do I want him assisting in whatever war we’re facing.”

  “Understood.”

  My commander had an uncanny ability to push me without uttering a single word.

  “I’ll need to handle this head on. Won’t I?” I wasn’t certain if I was asking or just making noise.

  “You know what to do, Madame Morales. What I said before I meant. You have the best instincts for this job I’ve ever seen.”

  I laughed, thoughts drifting to Jago. He was brutal. There was no doubt he would do what it took to undermine me. “I don’t know about that, my friend. But it’s what I need to do. It’s time I entrench myself in my new life.”

  “Just do me a favor, Madame Morales. Don’t lose the woman I’ve grown to care about very much.”

  While I understood what Emiliano was saying, what he hadn’t completely realized or accepted was that I’d tried my best to prepare for such a horrible event for several years. I wasn’t the sweet girl who’d left Barcelona for a better life. I’d been forced to become a soldier battling a war I hated.

  One thing was certain.

  Every aspect of my life, my faith, and even my trust in humanity was about to be challenged.

  “What do you want to do?” Emiliano asked.

  “Work with Antonio to establish a list of possible Torres targets. I’ll make a determination once provided. We strike together.”

  He cocked his head. “You’re not going.”

  “Oh, yes, I am. It’s obvious I have no respect with the hitmen or anyone else involved with my father’s organization. That needs to cease, or we’ll be destroyed. The only way of doing that is to show a sign of force.”

  I sensed Emiliano wanted to caution me. What he’d likely tell me wasn’t something I hadn’t bludgeoned my mind to death with over the last few hours. Few men appreciated or wanted change. Few women held their respect. I had a tough mountain to climb with sharp drop-offs, but what choice did I have?

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “One hour and I address the soldiers and make a decision. One hour.”

  Men like my father continued to control every aspect of Spain and beyond. There were those who’d say I was wrong, but I’d grown up with the hierarchy, criminal power pulling the strings of every supposed decent, law-abiding citizen in Barcelona and Madrid. My father had once controlled a significant share of both legal and illegal activities, but over the years his significant hold had decreased. He’d blamed it on evolution, but it was all about who was the stronger dog in the fight. He’d been at a disadvantage from early on. With no stable of heirs, young men to follow in his footsteps, he was considered weaker than other syndicate leaders.

  However, he’d amassed a fortune, including in connections.

  Yet my father had played the part, wearing his suit like armor while wielding a firm hand in all aspects of business. I’d always thought him one of the most handsome men in the world.

  In holding his bloodied and broken body in my arms, I’d been forced to look past my childhood fantasy that he was the most powerful man in the world to the reality.

  We were all on borrowed time, the business of brutal welfare not only aging him, but also costing him the woman he’d loved and his life.

  Emiliano opened his mouth as if to counter my decision but thought better of it. After nodding, he walked out and once again, I was left alone.

  Very much alone.

  My father had built an entire compound enclosed within the gated property. While the house and outbuildings were positioned on one side of the fifty or so acres my father had acquired, there were other buildings where certain aspects of his business were handled. In addition, he’d accepted my suggestion of branching out only a few years before, purchasing a commercial building in Barcelona where my newly acquired office was.

  Jeeps were used to transport men between destinations, Antonio grabbing one and driving Emiliano and me toward what my father had called a training facility. As children, we’d never been allowed to venture to this side of the property and I’d certainly never been allowed in the buildings.

  I’d learned much later in my life that while certain aspects of training were handled in several of the buildings as well as product control, punishment was also doled out when necessary.

  That’s why the stench of body odor and blood immediately assaulted my senses when I walked in. As inappropriate as it was, as I headed into what felt like a lion’s den with fresh blood covering me, my thoughts drifted to Jago.

  He was without a doubt a formidable man, but he was also extremely sexy. Just being within a few feet of him had caused my heart to flutter. While his heated gaze had hardened the moment I’d initiated a challenge, I’d also captured a crystal-clear vision of his thoughts.

  Pure, unadulterated lust.

  Not that I hadn’t experienced a few feelings of my own, but Jago’s obvious assumption I was easy to push aside should have driven my thoughts into a wastebasket.

  It was fascinating how they’d surfaced again after walking into yet another difficult situation. I’d been supplied with a basic list of reported Torres holdings and at least a few verified locations of his warehouses. I had no intention of starting a war, but providing a statement to support what Jago had heard from my lips would go a long way with earning respect from my soldiers.

  At least that’s what I hoped.

  Only I sensed immediately the uphill battle would continue.

  There were forty or so soldiers awaiting my arrival. Every one of them had a scowl on their face as if I was the clear and dangerous enemy. Even Antonio remained tense as he’d been since rattling off possibilities where a decent and successful strike could be performed. This was all about a message sent to Jago, but he’d acted as if there was no chance at success.

  Maybe there wasn’t, but I wouldn’t be content without trying.

  God, I was in way over my head.

  A wave of fear unlike anything I’d felt threatened to tear me apart.

  Never let them see you sweat.

  It was something else I’d been taught, but the words were meant for standing in front of a difficult witness or unruly criminal, not men who could carve me up and eat me for breakfast without batting an eye.

  I’d tossed clothes from my suitcases on my bed until I’d found something suitable to wear. I’d taken a clue from Emiliano, choosing dark jeans, a black shirt, and black chunky boots instead of heels. I’d stared at myself in the mirror, finally heading to my father’s safe where I’d selected a weapon to carry. I’d been taught at an early age how to shoot using various weapons. That had been at my father’s insistence. Had I been forced to brandish a gun let alone pull the trigger since then?

  Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

  Maybe it was a prop, but I felt safer having it positioned in a shoulder holster that felt suffocating. The men didn’t move when I walked in, at least at first. It took me coming closer, standing within inches of two different men I’d yet to meet for the group to part almost like the Red Sea.

  Images of the analogy squelched a few of my nerves, but certainly not all.

  With so much at stake, I couldn’t waste time with many formalities. At least every man remained quiet, so much so the silence was even more unnerving.

  When I noticed Marco standing in the rear of the group, the same heated venom in his eyes, I didn’t allow anyone to realize I was wishing for my kid brother again. The one who’d enjoyed playing football in the backyard, even fishing with my father. That had been their thing until Marco had deemed it childish.

  I’d never seen such hurt in my father’s eyes as I had on that day.

  I stood feeling like a shrimp in a lobster farm, my skin itching from nervousness, but I allowed my booming voice to roar.

  “You know who I am, at least by reputation. I am Genevieve Morales, the firstborn of Lord Julio. As you are well aware, my father was murdered in cold blood. Because of that, you are now under my command.”