Jennie.
Her soft eyes. Her shaking voice. Her horror.
What would she see if she looked at me now?
I already know the answer.
A monster.
A man soaked in blood, who doesn’t blink when he kills, who doesn’t pause to breathe while bodies hit the floor. A man who walked into her life and ripped it in two.
I clench my jaw.
Let her see the monster.
Let her fear me.
It doesn’t change what’s coming.
She’s still marrying me tomorrow.
And whether she loves me or hates me, she will be mine. Who cares about her love when I have her body in my bed? Thatvoluptuous, beautiful body that I’d cut an arm off for. Fuck, the things I can make her feel with these hands stained with blood. The pleasure. The sweet pain. She will beg for release, and I’ll hold it away from her. When she least expects it, I’ll release her, letting the waves of pleasure sweep her into my arms.
A smile crosses my lips.
“Boss.”
I turn.
Zalar steps over a mangled body, blood splattered on his boots. His expression is unreadable, like always.
“Everywhere’s clean. Cargo’s secured,” he says.
I nod once, slow.
“And Cartel?” I ask.
Zalar adjusts the strap of his rifle. “He hasn’t been breached.”
Good.
I take a breath through my nose, blood and smoke thick in the air. The bastard’s lucky I haven’t ended him already.
“Take me to him.”
Zalar nods, leading me toward the far end of the warehouse where the air is heavier—darker. We walk past pallets of ammunition and crates sealed in steel. There’s a reinforced metal door in the back, guarded by two of our men.
They step aside at the sight of me.
Zalar unlocks the door and pushes it open.
Logan Cartel is slumped in the corner of a concrete holding room—wrists cuffed, shirt soaked with dried sweat and blood. He looks like shit. Eyes swollen. Lip split. He’s been here for days now, paying for what he did.
Three-point-seven million.
Stolen right from under our noses.
He thought he could disappear. Thought he could vanish with our money, board a plane, and pretend we wouldn’t hunt him down.