Page 207 of Plunge into Obsession

I smiled.

She slapped my chest. “Gabriel.”

“You remember the Vasiliev Bratva?”

She chewed her bottom lip. I used my finger to ease the poor abused flesh away from her teeth.

“Yes, Catalina’shusbands.”

Of course she would be focused on that.

I nodded, my grip on her ass tightening a bit. “That won’t ever be the case with you.”

I was murderous just thinking about it.

Her eyes widened. “I don’t want that to be the case. Geez. Stop looking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to kill someone.”

The line was so fucking outrageous, especially since it wasmeshe was saying that to, a small chuckle escaped.

“Well, those bastards are coming for—a little visit.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “Is everything okay?”

“Nothing you have to be concerned about,” I said.

“Oh. Is it Lucinda?”

I shook my head. “No, baby. I still haven’t found her. Or found out what happened to her.”

She looked off to the side. “It’s been years since she disappeared. I knew it would be hard.”

I didn’t answer, just cupped the back of her head until her face rested on my chest.

Luis had done a lot of bad shit in his life, and some of that bad shit included using women as commodities for profit, power, and sex.

I didn’t know how many women had fallen victim to it, but hell, I doubted Lucinda was the first—or the last.

It was like trying to find a fucking specific needle in a stack of thousands of identical needles.

And there was a part of me that didn’t think Lucinda wanted to be found—if she was alive. Raphael thought Santiago was lying about Lucinda, but why would the fucker Santiago risk my wrath to cover for one insignificant woman?

Things weren’t adding up, but I wasn’t going to tell Bianca all of that. Not until I had confirmation.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

She wiggled against me. “Good. But when are these… uh, guests coming?”

“In about an hour or so,” I said. “They won’t stay long.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They’re just passing through.”

I played with her hair as I stared at the ceiling. The Bratva were on their way to Mexico, and I had men going with them.

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