Page 22 of The Love Language of the Cartel

I placed my black cowboy hat on my head and turned back to the vehicle, watching as Demi emerged. Her obsidian black curls caught the sunlight, showing off its luster. Even after our long journey, she held herself with a defiant grace that equally infuriated and intrigued me.

“Welcome to your new home,mi amor,” I announced, gesturing grandly at the compound.

Demi’s wide brown eyes narrowed as she took in her surroundings. “This isn’t my home, Ozias. It’s my prison.”

I chuckled, amused by her stubbornness. “A golden cage, perhaps. But I assure you, it’s far more comfortable than the alternative.”

“Which is?”

“A coffin,” I answered bluntly.

She didn’t respond, but I noticed the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands clenched into fists at her sides.Good. Let her simmer in that anger. It will make breaking her all the more sweeter.

I strode toward the main entrance, not bothering to check if she was following. She had no choice but to come along, after all. The heavy wooden doors swung open at my approach, revealing the cool, shadowy interior.

“This way,” I called out over my shoulder, leading her through the grand foyer. My footsteps echoed on the polished tile floors, a steady rhythm punctuated by the softer sound of Demi’s bare feet.

I felt her gaze burning into my back as we walked.Is she studying me, looking for weaknesses? Or is she admiring the way my tailored suit hugs my athletic frame?Either way, I allowed myself a slight smirk. She could look all she wanted. She’d learn soon enough that I had no weaknesses for her to exploit.

We entered the main living area, a spacious room with high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the neighboring mountains. I paused, giving Demi a moment to take it all in.

“Like what you see?” I inquired, turning to face her.

She lifted her chin, defiance flashing in her brown orbs. “It’s just a house, Ozias. Bricks and mortar will never impress me.”

I stepped closer, knowingly invading her personal space. She held her ground, refusing to back down. “And what impresses you, Demi? Power? Wealth? A big dick? I have all three in abundance.”

“Compassion,” she retorted. “Kindness. Things you clearly don’t know a damn thing about.”

She might’ve acted like she wasn’t attracted to power, but one look at the woman said otherwise. Her words should’veangered me, but instead, I found myself laughing. She was like a feisty Chihuahua in my eyes—tiny with an overcompensating bark.

“Compassion and kindness are luxuries I can’t afford in my world. They’re weaknesses that get you killed.”

Demi’s expression softened for a moment, then it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by her natural scornful expression.

I turned away, moving toward the bar tucked into one corner of the room. “Drink?” I offered, pouring myself a generous measure of top-shelf tequila.

“No, thank you,” she replied stiffly.

I shrugged, knocking back my own drink in one smooth motion. The alcohol burned pleasantly as it slid down my throat, a familiar warmth spreading through my chest.

“You should relax, Demi,” I encouraged, setting the empty glass down with a soft clink. “This is your home now, whether you like it or not. You might as well get comfortable.”

She crossed her arms, her slim-thick figure accentuated by the defensive posture. “And how long do you plan on keeping me here? A few days? Or will I need a forwarding address?”

I moved closer again, circling her like a shark in bloody water. “That depends entirely on you,mi amor. We’ll be staying here for at least the next week. After that . . .” I let my voice trail off, allowing the questions to hang in the air between us.

There was a fair amount of distance between us, but I could still see she was shaking. Demi’s orbs widened slightly, a flicker of fear breaking through her tough exterior.Good. She should be afraid.I liked it. I shouldn’t have, but I did. Fear was a powerful motivator in a relationship, and I intended to use every tool at my disposal to bend her to my will. Fear and loyalty would mean our marriage was a relatively happy one.

I watched as she moved demurely toward me. Her eyes were glued to her feet. She was everything I had been told she would be. Everything I’d witnessed in the photos and videos before we met. Demi Malone was the perfect bride for a man like me. But nothing could have prepared me for how beautiful she was in person.

And she was all mine.Well almost. All we had to do was say our vows in front of a priest, and she would be mine forever.

“Demi.”

She lifted her head so sharply that I was afraid she would give herself whiplash. Her eyes widened as she stared straight at me. Then she dropped her head again, staring at her bare feet. “El Diablo,” she answered sarcastically.

“Ozias.”

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