Page 3 of Hostile Love
“You work for Blanco, yeah?” he demands, tapping the screen with his thumb and turning it around for me to see. “This you?”
I straighten when it starts without any volume. The video’s replaying the exact moment I’d shoved my daggers into Eduardo’s eyes.
Morbid satisfaction buzzes through me, warm and addictive.
“Nah, that's not me. Looks nothing like me,” I retort, dripping sarcasm. “I’m a gardener. I cut trees down.”
He cocks a brow, his energy becoming dark.
“Keep watching. Maybe you’ll recognize your cunt when Matheus Souza starts fucking it. You two are up to something. This proves it.”
My temper starts to boil, quick and hot.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right…” He angles the phone back and fast forwards the footage. “That you he’s fucking?”
I bristle. Taking another look at the small screen, I watch myself lie back on the table at the abandoned club, finally accepting my feelings for Matheus.
I had surrendered to him and let go of the hatred I had for his family.
Matheus was everything I never knew I wanted. Those intimate moments were private, and this fucker has a recording of us on his phone.
“We have cameras everywhere. Rookie mistake not checking before you took off your mask.”
The professional sicario in me recoils, but the young woman who finally got revenge can easily live with it.
Realistically, these two guys aren’t a problem for me. I could knock the legs out from under this one, steal his gun, and shoot them both in the face before they even knew a woman had kicked their asses, but curiosity keeps me waiting.
“What about this? You recognize the woman who takes his hand like an obedient dog and walks out of the club with him?”
I stay still, not giving anything away, even though I’m far from calm inside.
The surge of anger within me multiplies a thousand times over. A spark of danger and deception hangs in the air, charged like a ticking time bomb, ready to detonate at any second.
My eyes drill into the sight of Matheus and me holding hands. Fuck, I’d soared to cloud nine with him.
“Must be a doppelgänger. You know what that word means, kid?” I mock, folding my arms.
His blank expression doesn't change.
“He stood back and let a Blanco soldier kill one of his own.”
My blood runs cold. “Think you’ve got the wrong person.”
“Nah,” he mutters. “It’s you and Matheus, all right. Blanco scum murdered Eduardo—the Souzas betrayed their own men.”
Christ. These guys are from the Souza cartel.
“Matheus has started a war, and his brothers won’t see it coming.” He continues. “And I’m going to cut those pretty eyesout of your skull for what you did to my uncle. When Matheus gets here, I’ll hand them to him before I take his.”
I shake my head and laugh under my breath.
“Who, Matheus? Are you kidding? Do you really think he’s going to come here?”
“You're his bitch, right?”
“The Souzas don’t involve themselves in petty shit like this. They send disposable fucks like you to do their dirty work. Maybe that guy with the daggers in his eyeballs deserved everything he got. Bet he was a rat.”
