Page 23 of Hostile Rival
Apparently, this bad assseñoritahas her own issues to wrangle.
Her eyes find mine, and something else’s lurking there now—dark and sinister. “She was a girl I knew…who I spent a certain amount of time with,” she explains.
I frown at her cryptic response. “A certain amount of time?”
She sits deeper in the chair and continues to stare at me, giving off weird vibes.
“Yeah, it's hard to gauge time passing when you're locked up in a dark room.”
My chest tightens and a violent temper breaks my tone when I growl, “Who the fuck locked you up?”
Dani takes another sip, regarding me in silence. The truce we’d somehow established dies as she glares at me, those cold eyes veiling horrors. “Guess who locked us up, Matheus Souza?”
I thump the mug on the coffee table, not giving a fuck when the tea spills and give her my full attention. “I’m all out of guesses tonight.”
A slow, evil smile stretches her pretty lips and her head cocks to the side. “The Souza cartel, of course…what an absolute shocker, Mat…huh?”
10
DANIELA
Matheus stares at me, not saying a word. The bare muscles on his chest tense when he pushes to the edge of the armchair and fingers his dark hair back off his brow.
Recalling the misery I had endured all those years ago has my veins running ice cold. Though the way his eyes burn into mine melts the bitterness inside of me––just a fraction.
I’ve loathed the Souza cartel for years. Yet here I am, sitting opposite one of the main power players, who also happens to be the hottest guy I’ve ever met.
Back then, my focus had been on Mama for so long. I was terribly naïve
, and not much older than Matheus is now. It means he was only a boy when it had happened, blissfully oblivious to the crimes the men on his family’s payroll committed––well, the crimes that involved me, anyway.
The rest of the shit they got away with under the main organization was day-to-day business, fully sanctioned by Elias Souza.
Regardless, Matheus is a man now who lives as a true Souza.
“What did they do? Who was it?” he finally asks, his voice hoarse.
“I’m not in the mood to talk over those details with you.” I stand, my legs still shaky. “Just know that while we’re in the field as Buffy and Crow, I’ll have your back. Outside of that, you are nothing but Souza scum.”
He immediately straightens from sitting to standing. His eyes scan all over me from his position at the other side of the coffee table. His expression is dark and completely void of emotion now.
“I am who I am, Dani,” he grits out. “You think I’m scum and I think anyone who works for Carlos Blanco is scum. So, we’re even, yeah?”
I barely lift my left shoulder to shrug, not giving him much of a reaction. “Looks that way, smartass.”
“Now, I want names. Give me fucking names.”
I don't even know this guy that well, yet the anger rippling through his voice leads me to think he wants their blood––not mine. He’s the only person who knows about my nightmares and wants to hear how they started.
I generally don't get to know people or vice versa. So, it’s strange how Matheus is the first guy who’s hooked my interest. Ever.
“Why? What does it matter to you?” I ask, curious for his reason.
He bares his teeth, and a shiver hits me hard. “I’m going to count to three, and you’re going to give me a name.” He orders, as a lock of thick hair falls over his brow.
“Really, Mat? It’s come to my attention that touching and dishing out orders are two of the Souzas worst character traits. You’ve got them down to a fine art.”
He starts to pace, his muscles rigid, and scrubs a hand over the five o’clock shadow on his jaw. “I’ve had twenty-two years of practice. Count yourself lucky, there’s a population of TikTokwomen out there all eager for me to touch them. Now give me details.”
