Sweet Captivity

“Only to correct your misbehavior,” he said, sounding as though it were the most rational response in the world. “I’d never do anything that would damage you. But yes, I won’t hesitate to punish you when you deserve it.”

“I don’t deserve any of this,” I countered hotly, struggling uselessly against his grip.

His gaze turned inward, his lips thinning. “Maybe not. But you’re mine now, and there’s no going back. I’m keeping you, and you’re my responsibility.”

“I’m not yours,” I insisted. “And you’re not keeping me. You said that’s your brother’s decision. Did you tell him you believe I’m FBI? Have you both seen reason and decided to let me go before the Bureau comes for you?”

“I’ll let him discuss this with you,” he replied.

He released my wrists and wrapped one hand behind my nape, pulling me toward him. I was forced to scramble across the mattress and get to my feet.

“Behave,” he ordered, squeezing my neck slightly in warning. Then he called out in Spanish.

Cristian Moreno appeared in the doorway, flanked by two men who were nearly as massive as Andrés.

My stomach dropped, and a horrible memory of Cristian’s knife slicing through my flesh flashed across my mind. I took a small step back, not realizing I was positioning myself closer to Andrés.

His grip on my neck eased, his fingers threading through my hair to massage my scalp. It helped ground me in the present, saving me from being thrust back into panic and choking terror.

Cristian’s dark eyes—so like his brother’s—watched my movements, coldly calculating. It occurred to me that I’d moved away from one tormentor to find shelter with another, and I eased away from Andrés. His fingers tightened in my hair, holding me firmly in place. He waited a few seconds, then released the tension and resumed massaging me once he was certain that I wasn’t going to struggle.

“You are Samantha Browning,” Cristian announced. “Andrés is convinced, and I had my people look into your story. You’re a fed.” He sneered the last.

I lifted my chin. “So you’ll let me go?”

“No.”

“But you have to,” I insisted in a rush. “If you keep me here, my friends—”

“They won’t find you here,” he cut me off with cool certainty. “One of my shell corporations owns this building. They won’t trace it back to me.”

“They know I was investigating your organization before you took me,” I said. “They’ll suspect you’re behind my disappearance. They’ll follow you until you lead them to me.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t come here often. This is my little brother’s home.”

Home? I thought, baffled. This entire freaking building was Andrés’ home? How much money did the Moreno family have at their disposal?

“Besides,” he continued. “It’s not like I’m stupid enough to get out of my car out on the street. And your people don’t have surveillance cameras in our private garage for this building. Which, I’ll remind you, they have no idea I own. So, Samantha Browning, no one is going to find you.”

My heart sank. If anyone could hack into Cristian Moreno’s life and trace his financials and properties, it was me. And I was trapped here, isolated from the Bureau and completely cut off from technology.

“You’re going to kill me,” I surmised, my blood running cold. There was no reason to keep me around anymore. He’d checked into my story, confirmed my identity, and he still didn’t care that I was FBI. He wasn’t intimidated in the least.

“No,” he said again. “You’re going to work for me from now on.”

“What?” I asked, all the air leaving my lungs.

“You’re going to erase all the evidence the FBI has on me. You will protect me and my business from them. If you do, I’ll let you live.”

A staunch refusal teased at the tip of my tongue, but I held it back. If he wanted me to log into the FBI database, that meant he’d have to give me access to the internet. I could get a message to Dex.

“Okay,” I agreed quickly. “I’ll need a computer.”

Too quickly.

He laughed, a hard, cold sound. “Do you think I’m a fool? You’ll contact the feds as soon as you get online. Now, I could just threaten to kill you if you try, but then you’d be useless to me if you’re dead. So, I’m going to leave you with my brother for a while longer. I’m sure he’ll break you in for me. He’s so good at that.”

Andrés growled, and his fingers tightened in my hair. He bit out something in Spanish, too fast for me to catch a single word.