Page 17 of The Love Language of the Cartel

Outside, the warm air wisped past my face. The city stretched out before us, a glittering labyrinth of spice and culture. My kingdom, though few refused to acknowledge it. I inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of power and possibility.

“The car’s ready,Jefe,” Ángel murmured, gesturing to the waiting black SUV.

I nodded, watching as Javier carefully maneuvered the cart to the vehicle. “Gentle with our guest,” I reminded him. “I want her unharmed.”

As they loaded Demi into the vehicle, I allowed myself a moment of reflection. The beauty had become the key player of all my plans. She was crucial to expanding my empire, crushing my rivals, and cementing my power once and for all. And yet... there was something about her defiance that stirred something deeper—a challenge I hadn’t faced in years. It was intriguing, to say the least.

I shook off the thought. As much money as I had, sentiment was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Not when I was so close to everything I’d fought for.

“We’re set, boss,” Ángel called out.

I slid into the back seat, my eyes immediately drawn to Demi’s unconscious form. Even in sleep, the stubborn set to herjaw made me want to smile. She wouldn’t be easily tamed and wouldn’t break easily, but that was half the fun.

I’ve always enjoyed a challenge.

As the car pulled away from the curb, I allowed myself a rare moment of anticipation. Just by looking at her, I knew the next few days would be very interesting.

I settled back into the plush leather seat and my eyes fixed on Demi’s beautiful face as we glided through the streets. The morning sunlight flickered across her smooth brown skin, casting shadows that danced over her delicate features.

I adjusted my grip on Demi, her head lolling against my chest. “Have the jet prepared,” I ordered, staring at Demi. “We leave for Cabo within the hour.”

Demi

Ijolted awake with a sharp gasp, my senses immediately on high alert. The gentle hum of engines surrounded me, and the subtle vibration beneath my body told me I was no longer heaped inside a cart. I was moving. Flying.

My ears popped as my eyes widened, and I found myself staring at a sleek, cream-colored ceiling. The air smelled of leather and expensive cologne. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog from my mind as I pushed myself up on my weak elbows. My eyes pinged near and far, from the half-empty bottle of dark tequila next to a deck of cards on the edge of the bar to the opened mahogany humidor with silk lining on a table next to my seat.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.”

That voice . . . deep, accented, and dripping with amusement. I whipped my head to the side, my black hair tumbling over my shoulders, and there he was, that model-looking mothafucka. Ozias “El Diablo” Rivera, lounging in a plush leather seat across from me, looking every bit the dangerous menace I knew him to be through rumors and now, firsthand.

Even seated, his confident posture eluded to a tall, athletic build. His brown skin was a warm, sun-kissed bronze, hintingat his Hispanic heritage. His dark, low curls were freshly styled with a tapered fade around his ears and nape, adding to his polished, king-like appearance. His eyes were an enchanting shade of deep cocoa brown, and the well-defined brows that framed them and the thick beard that covered his jawline only added to his overall sex appeal.

Dressed in a tailored black suit, the smell of designer labels and money practically emitted off of him. I’d been in the room with millionaires before. I knew the aroma well.

“You,” I spat out, my voice hoarse from disuse. “What the hell is going on?”

Ozias’s dark brown eyes glittered with amusement as he took a sip from a crystal tumbler filled with amber liquid. “I thought that would be obvious by now, Demi. We’re taking a little trip.”

I struggled to sit up fully, my limbs feeling sluggish and uncooperative. As I did, I took in my surroundings. We were in what appeared to be a luxurious private jet, all polished wood and gleaming metal. The windows showed nothing but endless blue sky and wisps of clouds.

“A trip?” I echoed, my thoughts scattered. “Where? And why the fuck am I here?”

Ozias set his glass down on a small table beside him, his movements fluid and controlled. “All in good time,mi amor. How are you feeling?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, anger bubbling up inside me. “How am I feeling? I feel like I’ve been drugged and kidnapped by a fucking psychopath who had my best friend and her family murdered for no good reason. How the fuck do you think I’m feeling?”

He had the audacity to chuckle when he smiled, the sound low and rich.His smile was magnetic, revealing a grid of perfect white teeth that lit up his ruggedly handsome features. It wasone of those smiles that could’ve easily won over any woman he encountered. Any woman except me.

“Feisty as ever, I see. Good. I was worried the sedative might’ve dulled that razor-sharp tongue of yours.”

“Sedative?” I repeated, my hand flying to my neck, where I suddenly remembered feeling a sharp prick. “You mothafucka. You drugged me!”

“A necessary precaution,” Ozias responded, his tone maddeningly calm. “You’ve proven quite . . . resourceful in the past. I couldn’t risk you causing a scene.”

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to lunge across the cabin and strangle him with my bare hands. “My. Father. Will—”

“Your father,” Ozias interrupted smoothly, “isn’t going to do a fuckin’ thing. At least, not for now.”

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