Owning His Virgin

Chapter Thirteen

Diezal

One Week Later

Life has been moving at the speed of a snail. Most of this is in part to the fact that I am so fucking on edge. Lawrence was supposed to be back in town a week ago, but then I got a message from him telling me he was delayed due to an emergency. Talk about a mind fuck. I feel like a dog right now, with a bone dangling in front of my face, but a barbed wire fence keeping it from me. This fucking sucks and it doesn’t help that my wife is still simmering.

A few days after her outburst, she sat next to me and laid her hand on my knee. I took this to mean she was forgiving me, and we have slowly made our way back to each other, but there is still a piece of her she is holding back from me, and it is like a red hot branding iron, peeling my skin back. She has always been open and transparent in our relationship and in her giving of herself. Knowing that I am the reason she is withholding is killing me and eating me from the inside out.

I have been trying to make it up to her in little ways since my last grand gesture was such an epic failure. Instead, I have taken to late night massages, warm baths with chocolate sundaes and letting her pick every movie, every night. Can we say torture? But to see her smile even a fraction of what she used to, makes it worth it. Little does she know, I am setting up a surprise dinner for later this week, after I have talked to Lawrence about my sister, which is where I am pulling up to now.

I park outside of his house since he told me he is working from home for a few days and to meet him here. Walking up to the porch, I simply sit on the bench, knowing he has cameras everywhere and saw me before I even turned the corner, no doubt. I hear the latch from his front door, and he walks out and sits beside me. “You know that was a shitty thing to do, dropping that on me and then disappearing.” I tell him not looking at him.

“I apologize, Del Vecchio. I had an emergency, and it couldn't wait.” What the fuck ever. I don’t respond. I don’t give a fuck. The only reason I am here is for the information he has, not his life story.

“Well,'' I say letting him know I am impatient.

“Turns out, my source says that Montero and the asshole that had your marks, has another associate that has thus far been kept off the radar. The emergency was that my source got made and I had to extract.”

“How does this pertain to the information I need?” Jesus. What is with the storytelling?

“If you chill asshole I can finish. Seems his other… partner is working out of Cuba. Goes by the name Kosmo Valladares. He is in the weapons business and word has it he traffics girls. Seems he was in the market for a young wife, all those years ago. My investigation hasn’t revealed any marriage licenses or anything, but I did also find out he has a son, an heir apparent to his Cuban smuggling empire is you will, named Camilo Noa Rodríguez Valladares and he was married five years ago to an unknown Italian girl that appeared out of nowhere. Now, if my timeline is correct, I believe this is Chassie.”

Holy fuck. My heart feels like it is going to give out. I almost don’t want to believe it. “Are you fucking with me?” I ask him, ready to leap off this porch and fly to Cuba.

“I wouldn’t do that. Seems she has been hidden for the most part, though they let her out occasionally. I am not sure the state of her person or what she has endured and to be honest, there were no photos to be seen, but I figured it doesn’t matter, we can go in and retrieve the female and go from there.”

“Fuck yeah. Let’s go!” I am already down his stairs and halfway to my car when he stops me.

“No!” he says calmly and with authority. Too bad I don’t answer to him.

“What the fuck do you mean, no? That is my damn sister, Bell.”

“It could be. We don’t know for sure, and I can’t let you go in there halfcocked and destroy this intel. Me and my team and I are heading at first light. Trust me, friend.” He puts his hand on my back and I swear to fuck all I want to do is punch the shit out of him. I hear a clang come from his house and I quirk my eyebrow at him.