Chapter One
Diezal
Three Months Earlier
For seven years, I have been searching for my little sister, Chassie. She was taken from my brother and me when she was sixteen, and as the oldest, that is the guilt I have held inside of me. I was away when she disappeared—away doing shit I didn’t want to do but was obligated to by my father. When I learned she was missing, I dropped everything and came home. But, by then, she had been missing weeks, and we all know recovery is almost impossible after that long.
My brother Axel and I joined an elite ops team specializing in search and rescue and threw ourselves into helping others like we couldn’t help her. The difference is, I never stopped searching for her. I retraced her last steps in my spare time, talked to her friends, and viewed every camera I could find. The only lead I had was a sex trafficking ring that seemed to operate out of Italy and Mexico. I was able to trace it to the leader, and even then, I said nothing to Axel. This was something I needed to do by myself.
The first visual I gained of the Compound run by these sick sons of bitches; I saw her. At first glance, she was like this apparition. An angel floating on the balcony, long golden hair cascading down her back, her skin was like milk with a caramel burst. She was ethereal. One look, and I was transfixed. Obsessed. Needy. I went back there, convincing myself it was recon. Deep down, I knew the truth. It was her. I wanted her.
Week two of my reconnaissance, I found an in. She left the compound to attend a party with a woman I surmised to be her aunt. I followed them, got myself invited to the party, and finally made my move.
Now, here I am, face-to-face, with the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. “Hi. I’m Diezal.” I say, holding my hand out to her. She blushes and bites her lip.
“Hi. I’m Teresa. Nice to meet you.” Hell, even her name is sexual.
“My Teresita,” I say, leaning into her ear and kissing her shoulder. Inhaling her is a mistake. She smells like my favorite childhood memories and sweet pussy. “Christ. You smell untouched, Florecita. Am I right?” I ask her, trying to be discreet. I haven’t forgotten that I still don’t know who she is to my target, but it stopped mattering weeks ago.
“Who are you?” she asks, body shaking, chest moving up and down as she fights to stay upright.
“A man who always gets what he wants.” She turns toward me but is thwarted by the lady she came here with.
“There you are. I have been looking all over for you. You know you are supposed to be schmoozing the money. Your father is counting on you.” She gives me a nasty look before ushering my girl away by her elbow.
“Lo ciento, tía,” she says, walking away. I slipped her a business card I had manufactured for this trip with quick thinking and a small distraction.
“Tonight,” I tell her before she leaves the room. With no other reason to be here, I slip out the back and down the road to my Humvee. Something has been niggling inside my head since her aunt came into the room. She said that ‘her father’ is counting on her. My gut begins to churn when the realization of what it means is falling on me. I pull up his file and shuffle through the papers. Nothing. There is nothing that says he has a… “Oh shit.” I spot the piece I overlooked.
For five years, Benito Montero was living here in the U.S with relatives. I vaguely remembered them mentioning he went to college for a year. Something about him dating a girl named Lisa Cloverfield: it seemed insignificant. But now, as I look deeper into this piece, I see what I missed. That girl bore him a daughter. Her father was deeply connected and had him deported. “Shit just got real.” My Teresa is his daughter.
Six Weeks Later
“Fuck baby. Ride me like you can’t get enough.” I tell her, smacking her ass while she bucks on my dick like a cowgirl. I watch as her tits bounce in my face, teasing me, begging me to suck and bite them. Lucky for them, I always answer.
“Oh God, Sir. You feel so good. So deep,” she says, her eyes closed as she dances on my pole. My hands traipse down the front of her body, taking a moment to rub her non-existent stomach. We found out this morning that she is pregnant, and we are both over the moon. I have been mounting her all day in celebration, but we both know this is just the beginning. We have to get her away from her father and not let on about me until we are stateside.