“Fuck no!” He balks at the suggestion, giving me a look of complete disgust. “I just told him when Souza had arrived at our prom with his hot date and left the rest to him. I don’t need to work for old school fuckers like Blanco… or the Souzas. It’s time for a new generation to step up and take over. A younger, more masterful leader with his finger on the pulse of Colombia’s youth.”
I squirm against the guy securing me and laugh at Fabian, eyeing his sharp, swarthy features tighten.
“You’re joking, Fabian, aren’t you? You seriously think you can take over from the Souza cartel and step on the toes of the Irish mafia. Are youthatstupid?”
He chuckles softly, his teeth bright white. “You know my father is a billionaire, right? I told you that already, didn’t I? Money talks and pays for armies big enough to annihilate the most powerful cartel syndicate in South America. And let me tell you another little secret…” He leans in, thumbing his lower lip as his gaze dawdles over the hoodie I’m wearing. “––you were with Tomás, André, and Matheus Souza when I accidentally bumped into you earlier. I have friends everywhere. And you led me straight to this creepy old house on the coast where all four of them are hiding out. One discreet little GPS tracker dropped in your purse was all it took because I’m smarter than those guys.”
My hands itch to slap the smirk off his self-satisfied, clean-shaven face. Instead, being this close to him gives me the advantage and I launch my forehead into his face. Following the obvious crunch, he rears back and pats the bridge of his nose, catching sight of the blood on his fingers. His eyes pop wide and his nostrils flare, as if he’s both shocked and enraged by my ability.
But rather than lash out at me, he chuckles from the back of his throat. “I’m going to enjoy shooting those four assholes. But you, I had a little crush on you for a while. It died when I realized who you were so tight with. Although, I might be persuaded to keep you alive for a time––if you wanted to beg for your life? Kneel, and let me see how good you’d look groveling on the floor.”
“Go fuck yourself, Fabian!”
He snuffs out the space separating us, his body so close I can smell his fresh cologne. His gaze locks with mine as his hand snares my throat—tight and unforgiving.
I refuse to react, even when his lips brush across mine. The muscles in my body brace and my back teeth grind so hard my jaw aches.
“You should have taken me up on my offer to go to prom.” Somehow, his voice changes. It still sounds like him, but the pitch of his tone has gone flat—emotionless.
I shudder from the unusual way he looks at me. “Fucking with danger is your kink, India. Kind of like my own. I mean, how could the son of a billionaire prove himself worthy to a father who basically smashed every single goal there is?” The tip of his tongue glides along my jaw. “Power and respect––those are the only things a man like him understands. I get it. I really do. Like right now, your pulse is fluttering against my palm like the wings of a tiny bird trying to flee. I could squeeze it until it stops––that’s power too. Do you want to tell me where your boyfriend is hiding?”
“He’s every shadow in this house,” I hiss. “And when he appears, you’ll wish we’d never met.”
Fabian stares at me for a split second. Something unreadable creeps over his handsome face. A sinister veil darkens his features, so he appears utterly terrifying.
My stomach churns, and I wonder if he’s always been this evil.
I inhale a tattered breath and steel my spine as the percussive sound of machine gun fire sputters exploding from another room.
He’s here.
The right corner of Fabian’s mouth hitches. “Finally. Time to say goodbye to your boyfriend and his fucking show-off brothers. It won’t be a happy ending for them. But don’t worry your pretty head, I’ll find it very satisfying.” He hollows my cheeks with his fingertips. “This shithole will burn to the ground soon and I’ll be here filming the flames. The world will know the Souzas met their match and I’m the guy who’s taking over.”
He releases the biting control he has on my face, then tenderly sweeps the tangles of my messy hair away from my face.
His eyes catch a flash of light at the same time as he dishes out a sucker punch to my gut. The grip on my arms releases.
“Get on your fucking knees bitch… know your place, India.”
Winded, I hunch over and clutch my belly, holding back the urge to vomit. With the background takka-takka of automatic bullets spewing, I suck in a breath, quickly straighten, and throw a fist into the side of his jaw, followed by an upper-cut to the chin.
Fabian staggers back, his eyes turning black as my own metamorphosis takes place. I am the darkness in Blackwater Manor and this fucker won’t ever touch my family.
“Come on, Fabian.” I fix my stance, solidifying one foot in front of the other. “Let’s see how good you are without your paid goons holding me back.” Bending my knees, I put my hands up. “Think you can fight a girl without using a gun? Just me and you. Better still, do you think you could win a fair fight? Or are you a little pussy who stands on the sidelines while the real men do the fighting for you?”
“Oh, I see…” Fabian snickers, his eyes drilling into mine. “You're brave now, because you think your boyfriend will step in and save you?”
“No, asshole, I’m confident I can take you down all by myself.”
A ghost of a smirk plays on his lips, and he glances left at a few of his men. “This will work out well. While I beat the shit out of you, my men will be pumping the Souzas full of lead. Maybe when you’re ready to surrender, Giovanni will step out of the shadows and face me. Man to man.”
“Haha, you’re not a man, Fabian. Luke was right. You’re pathetic.” I lunge forward and strike with my right arm, using the space between my fingers and thumb to jack him straight in the Adam’s apple.
The sharp thrust steals his breath, and he clutches at his neck, sucking in air. He stumbles a few steps and throws a hand to the back of the couch, struggling to keep himself upright.
My pulse accelerates, and I go to run, but a hand seizes my arm. Locked in place by one of his men, Fabian swivels and charges at me, his breathing short, sharp sips.
His hands are in my hair, forcefully yanking my torso to meet his knee. The guy holding onto me from behind lets go, allowing Fabian to take charge. In that second, I seize the opportunity to grab Fabian’s wrist, dig my nails into his skin, and twist until he releases me.
