Kingpin's Property

Chapter 2

Carmen

I might have signed my own death warrant, but it was too late to stop what I’d put in motion. My heart hammered against the inside of my ribcage, pumping adrenaline through my body. The resultant rush sent a strange sense of giddiness soaring through my system. Despite the terror twisting my stomach into knots, I swallowed a bizarre laugh.

I pressed my sweaty palm against the cool metal of the reinforced steel door, the crack in the defensive wall that protected my family estate. The thick barrier was meant to shield me from the enemy outside, but I was about to unlock the door and welcome them into the fortress that had kept me safe for over a decade.

I took a deep breath, straightened my spine, and wrapped my fingers around the door handle. Bracing myself to face the enemy, I hauled the heavy metal barrier inward, creating a breach in the walls that had been erected to withstand a siege.

But it wasn’t only my enemy waiting on the other side.

My nightmare stared back at me, his black eyes glinting with malicious pleasure and his sensual lips split in a cruel grin.

My heart leapt into my throat, and I threw my weight against the heavy door, desperate to lock out the man who haunted my dreams: Stefano Duarte, vicious drug lord and my own personal demon.

I barely noticed the blood-soaked, hulking brute who accompanied him; I didn’t register my enemy, Mateo Ignazio, as a threat. We had a truce in place.

I had no such bargain arranged to protect me from Stefano.

But as I’d feared, it was too late to change my mind. The steel door didn’t give quickly enough under my weight, and my attempt to close it only incited my enemy to violent action.

Ignazio barreled toward me, his huge body slamming the metal inward. The impact shoved the air from my lungs and propelled me backward, knocking me off-balance. Cool, damp grass cushioned my fall, and the stars of the night sky filled my vision. The sudden shift in my perspective disoriented me, my mind reeling from the physical fall and the visceral fear incited by Stefano’s presence.

I gasped in air, preparing to scream for help. This had been a terrible mistake.

Ignazio had promised he would only bring a small team of men with him to aid in this operation: rescuing the woman he loved, Sofia, from my cruel brother, Pedro. Ignazio would get Sofia back, and I would arrange a targeted coup, taking control of my family’s cartel for myself.

But that was before I’d known one of the men would be Stefano Duarte. Panic clawed at my brain, obliterating rational thought.

I barely finished filling my lungs with oxygen when a heavy weight settled over my body, pressing me deeper into the earth. Strong hands ensnared my wrists, forcing them together above my head and pinning me to the ground. A warm, calloused palm clamped over my parted lips, smothering my scream.

For a moment, he was a silhouette against the night sky, his darkness blotting out the stars. My vision adjusted in the dim lighting, and I could make out his sculpted, angular features, rendered sharper and more terrifying by the shadows pooling beneath his high cheekbones. His black eyes captured a glimmer of moonlight, making them glitter with malicious pleasure. White teeth flashed in a predatory smile.

My body recognized the scent I thought I’d forgotten: rich, earthy tobacco sharpened by exotic spice. It filled my senses, and a flash of remembered heat radiated through my body. The involuntary reaction fueled my fear.

No part of me should desire Stefano Duarte. He used his beauty to lure in his prey, and I’d vowed never to fall into his trap again.

Unfortunately, it seemed a deep, shameful corner of my psyche craved the ecstasy of his masterful touch.

No! I wasn’t the naïve young woman who’d fallen into his arms all those years ago. I knew better now than to trust any man. Stefano had been the first to teach me that painful lesson.

Blind panic and rage caused my muscles to tense and jerk against his powerful hold. I’d spent more than a decade learning to defend myself, but one glance at Stefano had been so jarring that all my training left my brain. It was too late for that now; he had me pinned, his muscular body trapping me beneath him.

His cruelly gorgeous face dipped toward mine, as though he intended to claim a kiss. But his hand was still firmly pressed over my lips, silencing my scream. He leaned in to whisper in my ear, his masculine scent invading my senses.

“Quiet now, kitten,” he purred, his warm breath fanning my neck.

I stilled, tense and trembling. Terror rode me hard, but warmth pooled low in my belly.

“You promised to help my friend Mateo. Remember?” he prompted. His low rumble was seductive as ever, capturing my focus and guiding me back to rational thought.