"I need you to be honest with me, Antonio," Valerie said.
Antonio sat across from Valerie, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity. "I will always be honest with you, Amore," he said, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Valerie's expression twisted into a scowl, her distaste for endearments evident. "Stop it with the nicknames," she barked. It was clear that she wouldn't tolerate any form of affectionate language from him, but Antonio found it all the more entertaining to push her buttons. He lifted his arms in mock surrender and offered her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry," he said, meeting her intense gaze. "But I can't seem to help myself." Her body grew taut with tension as she glared at him, demanding answers. "What is your game, Antonio? Why are you forcing yourself into my life?" Antonio leaned in closer, his expression grave as he rested his elbows on his knees. "Would you believe me if I told you that all of this was for the chance to win your affection?" The words hung heavy in the air between them, charged with emotion and sincerity. Valerie's piercing green eyes narrowed as she stared at him, her gaze intense and unwavering. She was dressed in an oversized white T-shirt that hung loosely over her slim frame, paired with worn stone-washed jeans that hid her beautiful curves. Her simple attire did injustice to her beautiful body, and yet Antonio fought against the raging desire to take her upstairs and ravish her. "No, I don't believe you. You don't know me, Antonio. And I don't know you. Why would you suddenly want my affection?" Valerie barked, her voice laced with suspicion and confusion. Her words were like a slap in the face, bringing Antonio back to reality and reminding him of the barriers between them. "My feelings for you are complicated. I do not understand them myself," Antonio said earnestly. Valerie rolled her eyes. "Spare me the dramatics, Antonio. I don't have time for your games." Antonio let out a long sigh. Porca puttana, women are such complicated creatures! A man pours his heart out, and she refuses to acknowledge him! "Bene! Don't believe me then. Why do YOU think I'm doing it?" he asked sheepishly. Valerie's gaze bore into him, her features hardening like stone. "I see right through you," she accused. "You're only doing this because you crave control. You want to manipulate me, make me feel indebted to you. Showering me with gifts and barging into my life uninvited, all in hopes of getting what you want from me. Like those codes Julian supposedly left with me." Antonio's jaw clenched as he fought to keep his temper in check. "Is that so?" he asked coolly. Her eyes narrowed in determination. "Yes," she said firmly. "If you truly believe that I have ulterior motives, then why not just give me what I want? The codes, I mean," Antonio challenged. The tension crackled between them like a spark waiting to ignite into a blazing fire. "Because I don't have it, you bastard!" Valerie cried. Her cheeks turned a fiery red, and her chest heaved with frustration. With a determined bite of her lower lip, she glared at him with her piercing green eyes. Those eyes looked glittery as if tears would fall at any moment now. Damn, she was gorgeous in her anger. Antonio's mind wandered to all the things he wanted to do to her. Make love to her every night, have more redheaded babies, maybe name them after pasta dishes... "Antonio!" Valerie's growling voice brought him back to reality. "Si?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, trying to keep his cool amidst her passionate outburst. "Sorry, what were you saying?" "I said...I don't have any codes. I don't know where they are. Julian never gave me anything special other than my son," she said, frowning. "Ah, I see." Antonio's mood brightened at the mention of Landon. "How's my bambino?" Valerie blinked. "Your...what?" "Sorry. It means my little boy in Italian," Antonio explained. "How is my little boy?" "He is not your little boy," Valerie mumbled, but her voice lacked conviction for some reason. Antonio leaned forward. "Did he like the presents I sent? Your son?" he asked, his tone gentle and curious. Valerie's response was laced with irritation as she scrunched her nose adorably. "No, he didn't. He is a newborn, after all. He is not old enough to have preferences." Undeterred by her dismissive attitude, Antonio pressed on. "Well then, did you like the presents I sent for you?" Valerie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I like them very much. Thank you." Ah...they were finally getting somewhere. Antonio grinned. "I'm glad to hear that," he replied. "Only the best for my future wife." "I am not your..." Valerie stopped and groaned as if realizing that arguing with him was pointless. "I appreciate the gifts, I really do. But I can't help you, Antonio. I don't know what Julian did with the codes." Antonio waved his hands dismissively. "Do not worry about those codes, Amore. I will find them on my own eventually. I won't bother you about them anymore." Valerie's eyes brightened with a glimmer of hope. "Really? So you will leave us alone?" Antonio smiled sweetly at her. "I didn't mean that." Valerie's expression fell, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Then what did you mean?" Antonio leaned forward, his intense gaze fixed on Valerie. "What I mean is, I won't constantly hound you about the codes anymore. But that doesn't mean I'm going to vanish from your life, sweetheart. I have my own motivations for wanting to stay involved." Valerie studied him, her sharp eyes piercing his. "And what could those motivations possibly be?" Antonio took a moment to choose his words carefully. "Let's just say I have a deep-seated interest in your safety and well-being. And, of course, Landon's as well," he said, hoping she would understand and trust him. "B...but...why?" Valerie asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Antonio stood up and stalked toward her like a predator approaching his prey. "Because, mia cara," he said, dropping to one knee in front of her and grabbing her hand. "I have grown fond of you." She only stared, her eyes wide and filled with confusion and curiosity. Antonio's words were slow and deliberate as he spoke, the weight of his feelings heavy on his tongue. "I care about you," he said, looking deep into Valerie's eyes. "And I care about Landon. Though he may not share my blood, he holds a special place in my heart." As soon as the words left his lips, he saw the confusion and disbelief in Valerie's expression. "Antonio," she whispered. "I don't understand why. Why would you care about any of us." He shrugged. "I don't know why either. Maybe it's because I find you intriguing. You challenge me because you're stubborn. Or perhaps it's because you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met, and I want you in my bed and..." He paused dramatically before continuing. "My life." Valerie blinked up at him. "Are you serious?" "Si," he said simply. "Something about you draws me in. And I can't resist." She was silent for a moment as she processed his words. "What do you want me to do?" she asked. "I want you to go back to your brother's house, collect your things, and move in with me," Antonio declared. "With your son, of course, so we can be a family." "You are insane," Valerie said, but the stubbornness in her voice was gone. Antonio offered her a devilish smile. "Yes, I am. My Nonna tells me that sometimes too. That's what I call my grandma, and she raised me like she was my mother. You will love her." Valerie's eyes looked clouded as if she was in a daze. "A family? You...me...Landon...your grandmother?" "Yes," Antonio confirmed. Her breath hitched as he leaned in close, his lips almost touching hers. Her voice quivered as she asked, "And if I refuse?" Her eyes lifted to meet his, and the tension between them grew palpable. Antonio lightly brushed his lips over hers. "Then I keep trying until you stop refusing me. I'll do whatever it takes until you're mine," he whispered against her lips, a thrill racing through his body at the thought of making her his. "And you, Valerie Foster," he continued. "Will eventually be mine."“You’re not gonna like this,” Nico said, dropping his pack on the table with a heavy thud.Landon looked up from the map spread out in front of him. “Tell me anyway.”Nico pulled a thumb drive from his vest and tossed it down. “Spotted a squad moving low through the southeast ridge. Eight guys. Tactical gear. No insignias. They didn’t look lost.”Max leaned forward from where he was cleaning a sidearm. “Mercs?”“Trained,” Nico said. “Quiet. Coordinated. The kind you don’t send in unless you’re planning to take something and walk away without a trace.”Daphne stood by the wall, arms crossed, back rigid. “Did they see you?”“No,” Nico said. “They weren’t looking for me. They were looking for us.”Daphne pushed off the wall and stepped closer. “He’s not here to kill us,” she said flatly. “Not yet.”Max looked over at her, eyes narrowing. “You sure about that?”Daphne nodded. “If he wanted a body count, we’d already be counting. He’s after control. He’s here to collect.”Landon met her ga
The jungle heat didn’t bother Marquez. Not the sweat that clung to his collar, nor the thick, buzzing insects that circled like vultures.He sat in a leather chair that had been dragged into the center of the old hacienda, a man with a kingdom built on bones and silence. Around him, his men stood still as statues. None dared speak unless he invited it.He liked it that way.The world had tried to put a leash on him once, called him too violent, too erratic, even by cartel standards. Fools. Weak men flinched from chaos. He had learned to shape it.The door creaked open.Dutch entered first, his scarred face split by a grin that always made people uneasy. He carried a laptop under one arm. He was his most trusted man. No, he was more than a man. He was his weapon. They all were.“I’ve got something,” Dutch said, setting it on the table.Marquez didn’t glance at the screen right away. He sipped his drink. Rum over one perfect square of ice and waited.Dutch knew better than to keep him w
Daphne stood at the edge of the Villa’s south wing balcony, staring out toward the jungle where the last traces of smoke curled into the sky. Her fingers gripped the railing tight, white-knuckled.Landon found her there. Silent. Motionless. The only sign she was still breathing was the rise and fall of her shoulders, too steady to be calm.“They burned the decoy site,” he said quietly.Daphne didn’t look at him. “Good.”“They left bodies. Ours. Mercs. Scorched beyond recognition.”Still, she said nothing.He stepped closer, voice quieter now. “They think you are dead.”Landon leaned against the railing beside her, close enough to feel the heat still radiating off her skin. “This isn’t the end. They’ll dig deeper.”“They can dig until they choke on ash,” she said.She turned her eyes back to the trees, but Landon didn’t look away from her.“You scared the hell out of me,” he said.Daphne let out a short, humorless laugh. “Which part? The ravine? The mercs? Or the fact I didn’t die like
In the command room back at the Villa, Max studied the monitors. Three feeds from drone cams. Two scouts were posted in the underbrush along the trail. One thermal signature map that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat.“They took the bait,” Landon said, stepping behind him. “Four trucks, two on foot. No insignia, but they’re Marquez’s style. Military patterns. Not cartel flash.”“Tracker units,” Max muttered. “Which means recon first. Then kill.”“They’ll find nothing.”“Oh, they’ll find something,” Max said, glancing at the red dot Camille had marked on the trail’s midpoint. “We just control what.”Down by the shoreline, Nico adjusted the position of a disguised mine, sweeping leaves carefully back over the tripwire with a twig. “Birdsong still quiet,” he whispered into his mic. “Cam, you have eyes?”“Three shadows cresting the southern ridge,” Camille replied. “All armed. Mismatched gear. No formation discipline.”“Mercs?”“Or desperate,” she said. “One’s limping.”Nico grunted. “Slopp
The room was too quiet.Max stood over the table, staring at the map as if he could will it to give him answers faster.“He thinks someone already found her.”Landon and he had a map laid out on the table. It had pins…blue for sightings, red for confirmed hits, and now a single black pin pressed into the coastline just east of Tomas’s villa. The conversation Camille had pulled from Tomas wasn’t just valuable intel.It was a warning.The door creaked open behind him. He didn’t turn.“You are pacing,” Landon said, voice cool but clipped. “That’s bad.”Max didn’t glance up. “Camille confirmed it. Marquez is spiraling. He is trying to hunt Daphne down harder than ever.”Landon walked in slowly, arms crossed, tension clinging to him like a second skin. “You think he knows where she is?”“No. But he suspects someone does.” Max pressed the black pin into the map harder, the tip biting through the board. “He’s tightening the noose.”“Then we cut the rope.”Max nodded once. “He’s paying for pr
The dress was black silk. It was elegant, sexy.It clung just enough to blend in, not enough to stand out. The kind of thing a quiet mistress or a discreet secretary might wear at a party like this. She'd chosen it on purpose.Camille moved through the crowd like a shadow, her expression soft, her smile rehearsed, her heels clicking just loud enough to be noticed without being remembered.Tomas had invited her as his "companion" for the evening. The fourth this month, if the whispers were true. He liked to rotate them. New faces kept his reputation glossy and untraceable.But Camille wasn't here for champagne.She was here for information."Stay close," Tomas murmured against her ear, guiding her toward the table near the balcony. "This crowd bites.""Only if you taste sweet," she said, her accent smooth and foreign.He laughed, charmed. Predictable.Tomas liked beautiful things. Especially beautiful things that pretended not to see the rot under his fingernails.Camille sat beside hi