Stealing Beauty (Stolen 1) - Page 37

My moment of indecision cost me. The man’s strong hand closed around my upper arm, and he began dragging me toward the door. Through the glass, I could see a black SUV waiting, a man already in the driver’s seat. I couldn’t let them put me in that car. I couldn’t go back to Hugo.

The door opened, and my assailant hauled me outside. I jerked against his hold. His fingers dug into my flesh.

“Let me go!” I demanded, twisting in his grip. The second man caught my other arm before I could lash out.

We reached the SUV in a few long strides. The door was open, and the men holding me shoved me into the backseat.

My furious shriek was drowned by gunfire. Blood sprayed from the front seat as a bullet tore into the driver’s skull. The men who had captured me turned to face the threat. They didn’t have time to reach for the weapons holstered at their sides before Adrián slammed into them. He tore one guard away from me while Mateo handled the other. In a matter of heartbeats, both men were on the ground. Adrián’s lips peeled back in a feral snarl as he fired his weapon, emptying the bullets into their chests.

He stepped over their lifeless bodies, sliding into the backseat with me and slamming the door behind him. Mateo was already hauling the third dead man out of the car, and he quickly replaced him in the driver’s seat.

Tires squealed, and the SUV lurched forward.

Adrián’s green eyes burned. I leaned away as the full force of his fury slammed into me, but his fingers curved into my shoulders, yanking me close. His face was only inches from mine as he growled down at me. “Where were they taking you?”

My own rage rose, and I growled right back at him. “Where do you think?”

“Where are we going?” Mateo interrupted before I could spit more venomous words. He appeared completely cool and calm.

Adrián barked out a curse. He released me, shoving me away as though I was something disgusting.

“We can’t go to the airport now,” he snapped at Mateo. “The police will catch up to us before we can board a plane. Just fucking drive. Get us out of the city.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, fuming. How could I have forgotten for even a few hours that Adrián was my hateful captor? Thoughts of our time in San Blas and the intimacy we’d shared made my stomach turn. I’d been right to reject him after our kiss. This man wasn’t the savior I’d longed for; he was my new tormentor.Chapter 12AdriánThirty seconds more, and I could have lost her. Valentina would have escaped with those men. They would have taken her back to Hugo.

Rage seared through my veins, threatening to leave my body in a violent display. As it was, the men who’d tried to take her away were dead. There was no one I could punish except her.

I clenched my fists in my lap. I couldn’t lay my hands on her, not even to punish. In the last few days, I’d learned that touching her was too great a temptation. She made me weak, shredding my control. My obsession was stronger than ever, driving me to the brink of insanity.

She wanted to leave me. She wanted to go back to her beloved husband.

Cruel memories surfaced, ripping through my brain. I’d suppressed the images for years. Shortly after she’d been forced to marry Hugo, I’d smuggled false documents to Valentina, working through a maid on their estate to get the passport to her.

On the day I’d expected her to sneak away from Hugo and come to join me in L.A., the documents were returned to me, along with a horrific video. Now, the images clawed their way to the surface, playing through my mind with sharp clarity, as though I was watching it for the first time.

Valentina stood next to a king-size bed. She was dressed up like something out of one of my wet dreams, her body barely covered by the scraps of fabric she wore. A black garter belt held up lace-topped, thigh-high stockings, and a sheer red organza nightgown did little to hide her pussy. She was completely bare, her sex on wanton display. Her dusky pink nipples peeked through the lingerie, the soft swell of her breasts straining against the delicate material.

A brilliant smile illuminated her perfect features. All the air left my chest, but her adoring gaze wasn’t quite fixed on the camera, at me. She looked at something just out of frame.

Hugo’s doughy body appeared. He was completely naked. Dark, curly hair covered his chest, growing thick on his rounded stomach that dropped almost far enough to cover his erection.

Impotent rage left me on a furious roar, but there was nothing I could do to stop this. This disgusting scene had already transpired, far away from me. Valentina was trapped in Colombia, while I was exiled to America.

Tags: Julia Sykes Stolen Erotic
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