Page 13 of The Love Language of the Cartel

The man who’d been watching me all evening.Fuck.

He stepped in, wearing all black from head to toe and smelling like palo santo with a devilish smirk playing on his lips. His sandy brown skin seemed to glow under the elevator’s LED lights as the doors closed, trapping us together in the small space.

“Going down?” he asked, his voice low and smooth with a hint of an accent.

I straightened my spine, channeling every ounce of Malone steel into my response, yet “Mm-hmm,” was all I managed to mumble.

He chuckled, the sound sending a chill down my spine. That was when I noticed it—a flash of gold as he smiled. A gold grill covered the bottom row of his teeth. My eyes darted to his exposed forearm as he reached out to jab the button for the lobby, and I felt the blood drain from my face. There, inked into his warm brown skin, was a tattoo with the words “Loyalty above all” and a barbed wire crown above the L.

Cartel.

The realization hit me like a punch to the stomach. I parted my lips to speak, to scream, to call out for help—I wasn’t even sure what. But before I could utter a sound, the elevator doors dinged and reopened on the same floor.

My heart somersaulted in my chest when I saw Dominic standing there with a brooding look on his face.

“Where the fuck have you been, Demi? I’ve been looking all over for you!” he barked.

“Me? I called and texted you! Where were you?”

“I stepped out to take a call. You good?” he inquired, staring the man up and down as he stepped inside the metal box with us.

I eased out a sigh of relief before quickly jabbing the button so the doors would close again. “Yeah. I’m good now.”

The elevator lurched before it finally started to descend. As much as I hadn’t wanted Dominic to accompany me to Mexico, I sure as hell felt safer with him here. A part of me felt childish for being so jumpy in the elevator with the man from the restaurant, especially since he didn’t bother to utter another word to me once Dominic appeared and stood between us.

Ding.

The elevator doors opened, and the man proceeded to step out and disappear, leaving only Dominic and me standing there. “Who’d you have a call with? Was it my father?” I inquired.

He dipped his chin. “Yeah.”

My brows knitted together in an unsatisfactory frown. “What did he say?”

“Just checking in. He wanted to know how things went.”

“But I texted him and told him everything was good with Councilman Reed, and he responded,” I explained, tilting my head to the side.

Dominic shrugged his broad shoulders. “I told him we didn’t have any issues. I was keeping my eye on that mothafucka from the bar, though.”

An exasperated huff flew past my lips. “Ugh,” I groaned. “Why is he still going out of his way to treat me like a child after I told him I had it taken care of? I mean, what’s the point of even sending me out here to meet with Reed if he was going to have you report back my every move before I had the chance to?”

“That’s between you and Unc. You know I don’t get in between y’all shit. You’re too much alike and opposites at the same time. It’s weird.”

I rolled my eyes while trying to brush off the negativity building up inside me. “Well, I’m good now. Once I get to the villa with Samara and the rest of the girls, you’re free to head back to Chicago.”

Dominic nodded. “Bet. You got the address?”

“I’m texting it to you now.”

The breathtaking Mexican sunset spread its golden, orange, and pink rays over the grand estate that sat on a hilltop overlooking the Caribbean Sea. I stepped out of the car in awe. A smile crept across my face as my eyes soaked in the breathtaking beauty of the secluded mansion, painted a warm, earthy orange. The large house was made of stucco and bordered by tropical gardens and palm trees with necks as long as giraffes swaying gently in the light breeze. Samara’s cousin, Rayne, had gone above and beyond, securing a spectacular estate for the pre-wedding festivities. I couldn’t wait to see what the weekend had in store for me.

“You sure you don’t need me to stay?” Dominic asked as he grabbed my luggage.

“In a house this gorgeous with a dozen beautiful half-naked women running around? No. I think I’ll spare you the torture,” I joked.

He smirked. “Yeah, whatever. Be safe, alright?”

“Always,” I replied with a wink.

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