Chapter 5

She'd had a bad night. Emotionally. Physically.

In every possible way.

She knew what was waiting for her when she opened her eyes. She wanted to be grateful, but fuck them all, she wasn't. It was their fault she was a pitiful wretch of a human being to begin with; a frail ghost who was too useless to function without an army of prescription pills and vitamins. Speaking of which¡­ she managed to crack an eye open to survey the dim lighting of her bedroom. Oh, thank goodness, the maid had left the blinds closed. Alonzo must have warned her about Casey's terrible night.

She shifted carefully under the blankets, as much as she dared, and snaked an arm out, reaching for the plastic cup on the table next to her bed. Just as her fingers closed around the smooth surface, slippery with condensation, Alonzo's voice rumbled from the doorway, interrupting her peace, "Take the meds as well, Mrs. Hernandez."

Casey flinched and nearly lost her hold on the precious drink. She slapped her other hand over the cup and hauled it into her chest, just barely managing to save her cherry Cola flavoured Slurpee from ultimate doom. She sighed and pulled the blankets further over top of her head, covering both herself and the cup.

"Please, just leave me alone," she mumbled, propping herself up on an elbow and sipping from the straw. The cool rush of frozen drink soothed the raw pain in her throat from vomiting and crying the night before. She held the cup against her aching head and closed her eyes in pleasure.

"Take the pills, Casey." Alonzo's insistent voice came from directly beside the bed. She heard him pick the tablets up off the side table where either he or the maid had left them at Ignacio's orders. "If you don't, then I'll be forced to report to Mr. Hernandez."

And she would be punished.

Casey stuck her hand out and felt two small pills fall into her palm. She pulled them under the covers with her, but he yanked the blanket abruptly back from her face. Her already tousled hair went flying. She didn't bother flipping out at him. There wasn't much point since this was their usual Casey-had-a-bad-night morning after game. She glared at him through red-rimmed eyes, stuck her tongue out and flung the pills in her mouth so he could see her swallow them. Then she took a long pull on her drink.

"Happy?" she asked fake-sweetly.

He grunted in response, turned away from her and began tidying the room. It was a weird chore for him to do considering it definitely wasn't his job, but occasionally he seemed to enjoy going above and beyond his usual duties. She tilted her head to the side and listened for a moment. Then she shoved the covers to the side and struggled off her big bed with one hand still clutching her Slurpee cup. She ignored the way Alonzo straightened quickly from where he was collecting stray clothes littered across her floor, his eyes averted from the mistress of the mansion.

"I think I'll go for a swim," she announced, heading for her closet. "It'll help wake me up. Please call the kitchen and order a mimosa, Alonzo."

"But it's raining outside, Mrs. Hernandez," he muttered.

"Even better," Casey replied, slamming the door of her closet behind her.

* * *

She appeared like some kind of apparition. One minute he was gazing absently out the patio doors of Ignacio's office toward the pool, wondering if it ever stopped raining in Miami at this time of year, and the next she appeared. She was by herself, arms down at her sides, shoulders slightly slumped and head bent. She wore a white silk robe that clung wetly to her tall, willowy form as though embracing her like a lover. Something inside him, an invisible pull, desperately wanted to see her face, wanted to know if the same magnetism he felt before was still there.

As though hearing his silent summons her shoulders suddenly jerked back and she lifted her head, those strange eyes turning slowly toward the window. He knew she couldn't see him through the darkly tinted window panes and she would soon be completely obscured from his sight by the rapidly increasing rainfall. The thought was both unsettling and untenable. Under normal circumstances, if she were his woman, he would have one of his men bring her inside and warmed up.

But there was something wrong with her, this perplexing woman that captured his attention in a way she shouldn't. Her eyes held a glazed, faraway look in them and she wasn't shivering as she reached up to gather her hair loosely in one hand, wrap it around her wrist and drag it over her shoulder. She took a few steps forward, but stumbled, nearly falling on her too-high heels. Her bodyguard lunged forward, seeming to come out of nowhere. The hulking giant snapped at her, but didn't so much as lay a finger on his delicate mistress to aid her.

Reyes frowned, anger and confusion growing as he watched her crouch and place a palm on the stone pool tiles while, what he suspected was, a severe bout of dizziness passed with absolutely no help from the man that was supposed to be her protection. Reyes had to squint now to see what she was doing, his muscles locked against the urge to stalk out the door, sweep her up and cradle her against him. Eventually she picked herself up and made her way slowly to a patio set where she collapsed into a seat with a hand against her head.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

Reyes' lips began to pull back in a snarl and his hand twitched toward his gun, a primal reaction to Ignacio Hernandez coveting what was his. It didn't matter that she'd belonged to the other man first, that she had, in fact, exchanged vows with the fucker. Reyes saw her and he wanted her, end of story. She would become his. The thought of Ignacio's hands anywhere near such a perfect creature enraged him to the point of instant, blind homicide. Reduced him to the feral beast he so often unleashed when faced with an enemy.

But he could not attack Hernandez. Not yet. He must remember that he, Reyes, was in control. Not this half Cuban, half American fuck. He needed to remember that he ruled entire regions through calm, cool logic. By maneuvering his enemies into the perfect position for a fall. And then he unleashed his fury. Never before.

Reyes turned to Ignacio with a raised brow and a smirk. "She's stunning, amigo," he admitted and nodded toward the pool, now completely obscured by the pouring rain. "You did well for yourself with that one."

Ignacio's chest puffed and he reached for a cigar box. Reyes waved the proffered cigar away and forced himself to keep his back to the window. He couldn't see the object of his fascination now anyway.

"She was promised to me long ago by her family. She was a beautiful child too," Ignacio told him, his eyes glinting in a disturbing way that made Reyes want to remove his teeth. Slowly, one at a time. "She almost slipped through my fingers¡­ an accident. But it worked out for us, we married just after her eighteenth birthday."

"You are a lucky man," Reyes acknowledged with a grunt, remaining deliberately behind Ignacio's desk next to the big leather chair; the power position. It left the other man standing opposite him, where his minions would usually place themselves. Ignacio shifted uncomfortably, but seemed to shrug it off.

"She could be yours, Se?or Reyes," Ignacio said slyly. "For a time."

Reyes could feel the vicious pull of his lip sliding back along his incisor in a snarl. He could not contain his disgust this time. He was forced to dip his head as though in thought. His voice was tight when he drawled, "That is very generous of you, Ignacio. Perhaps I will take you up on your offer. After all I am in Miami for a short time only and such a beautiful companion would make me the envy of my men."

His lips tightened further while disgust flooded his chest. The need to tear out Ignacio's eyes and slam them down his throat before setting into an earnest bout of torture rode him strong. The other man had just boldly offered Reyes the use of his wife. Hernandez clearly had no instincts for self-preservation or he would have stepped much more carefully around the Bolivian boss.

"I am a generous man," Ignacio said proudly, puffing away on his cigar, pride blinding him just as much as the smoke curling around his mustached face.

"How generous?" Reyes asked, trying not to growl at the other man. "I don't want a woman that has been passed around half of Miami, you understand?" Fuck his plan, he was going to murder Ignacio Hernandez with his bare hands in the next five seconds if he didn't like this answer.

Ignacio looked alarmed for a moment, as though his own plans weren't quite going the way he wanted. He was quick to reassure. "No, never. She is practically untouched, except for myself, of course."

"Of course," Reyes growled, turning from Ignacio. It went against his instincts to turn his back on an enemy, but he couldn't look at the man without seeing red.

"So, you'll consider Casey as part of the negotiations?" Ignacio pushed.

Reyes gripped the top of the chair, crushing the leather beneath strong fingers, imagining it was the other man's trachea. Impudent fuck, he thought to himself. How dare he presume to dictate the terms of our agreement and then use my woman as a bargaining chip. The death of Ignacio Hernandez would be something to be savoured.

"Yes, I believe she will be part of the negotiations," Reyes murmured, gazing into the pouring rain toward where he knew she sat. Alone and vulnerable.

"But only to use in Miami?" Ignacio was quick to clarify. "Not to take back with you to Bolivia. She is my prize, after all."

"Of course," Reyes lied.