She’d smiled kindly on me, obviously loathing chauvinistic men who believed women were nothing but disposable toys.
Here it was.
That very moment when I could exact my revenge.
The larger-than-life killer was taking a night off, enjoying the perks of being a monstrous leader.
I continued studying him from far enough away that there wasn’t a chance I was being lured into a trap. Being careful was the only way I’d have a chance of gutting the man I hated with every ounce of my being.
Sadly, I was forced to remind myself my sister’s life was at stake. She was alive. I felt her presence all the way to my bones. We were so close I’d know if she’d been killed. The kidnapping was bad enough. Retribution for the past was the delicious, ripe cherry on top. He would suffer the way I knew she had.
The way my…
Memories were brutal, often shoved inside a padlocked box for months, even years. When they surfaced, they were often deadly.
The Spaniard was devastatingly handsome, but if eyes were the truest expression of a man’s soul, his was obsidian black. That didn’t mean his lethally dangerous looks and powerful demeanor weren’t attractive. Quite the contrary. He was gorgeous, a man wrapped in sin and a ten-thousand-dollar suit.
His long dark hair and chiseled jaw were enough to land him onPeople Magazineas one of the Fifty Hottest Men in the World. Yes, I had envisioned tangling my fingers in his thick curls, but only in the context of fisting a handful, jerking back his head and driving a sharp knife into his neck.
He was intimidating just by existing, a man who controlled every room he walked into. Only he didn’t simply head into a location, he owned it just by walking inside. I’d learned to read peoplevery well and he truly believed he was bigger than the law and that decency didn’t apply.
I took a sip of my drink while he commanded attention from the bartender. People had scattered the moment he’d walked in, giving him and his entourage a wide berth. If I had to admit the truth, doing nothing more than continuing my observation would be satisfying, but I refused to lose my nerve.
It was time.
I only hoped the dangerous Underworld King was prepared to meet his maker.
CHAPTER 2
Fallon
Captivating.
Charming.
Deadly.
Navarro was all those things and more, but even after laying eyes on the man, devouring his powerful physique with my eyes, nothing had changed.
The man deserved to die.
I watched as someone approached the bar, his sights set on Navarro. One of his soldiers frisked the older man, finally giving a nod he wasn’t carrying any weapon. While my curiosity was piqued, I remained where I was doing nothing more than observing.
Navarro was listening intently, yet not once did he look his visitor in the eye. Less than two minutes later, the Spaniardnodded to one of his men who handed the mystery guest an envelope.
I laughed softly to myself. A classic payoff for information. It would seem Navarro was here doing business after all.
With my drink in my hand, I moved through the crowd, not allowing my eyes to leave him even for a second. He remained at the bar, barely acknowledging the men who stood at his side. Dressed in a dark suit without a tie, he ruled the club as if he owned the establishment.
He didn’t.
His arrival in Mexico had provided the perfect avenue for my intentions. But I would have gone anywhere if necessary. While a guest in a foreign country, it was obvious the power he possessed simply by the reactions of the tourists and locals alike intending on enjoying a beautiful evening of drinking and dancing.
His casual attitude continued to irritate and fuel the anger that had begun to furrow the day I’d realized my sister had been forcibly taken from her apartment. The threatening note had said it all. While I’d been a thousand miles away pretending to be some great artist, my baby sister had faced the horrible wrath of a past I barely remembered any longer.
While there were other players undoubtedly involved, Navarro had been tasked to hunt and destroy.
Brooke was an innocent soul, determined to bring light and life to those considered underprivileged. She’d been driven into a war by our father, something I would never forgive him for. Yet Navarro was entirely to blame for her disappearance. My mindremained rattled from memories and visions, the stark reality of the family’s past claiming another victim.
