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A chill ran down my spine at his words, but I refused to let him see me sweat. Instead, I forced a smirk onto my face. “You clearly don’t know my father very well if you think he’s just going to sit back and let you get away with this.”
Ozias leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The movement caused his tailored shirt to stretch across his broad shoulders and defined muscles, and I hated myself for noticing. “Oh, I know Cyrus Malone quite well,mi amor. Perhaps better than you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demanded to know as my heartbeats per minute doubled.
He shrugged as another small, infuriating smile played at the corners of his mouth. “It means your father and I have an . . . understanding.”
I scoffed while crossing my arms over my chest. “Right. Because my father would be over the moon with his only daughter being kidnapped by a delusional Mexican cartel boss. I call bullshit, Ozias.”
“Believe whatever you want,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “But the fact remains, you’re here, and you’re not going anywhere.”
I glanced around the cabin, looking for anything I could use as a weapon. My eyes landed on a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket nearby.If I could just reach it . . .
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” he warned, his voice suddenly hard as stone, as if he could hear my thoughts. I froze, realizing he’d been watching my every move. “If you ran away and I had to kill you, I’d be heartbroken, Demi. It would make our two-hour journey so much less pleasant.”
“Our journey to where exactly?” I asked, fishing for intel. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
Ozias’s eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of something behind his carefully constructed facade. Weariness? Regret? But it vanished in an instant, replaced by his mask of cool indifference.
“Cabo San Lucas, of course,” he replied simply. “My home.”
The words hit me like a Mack truck.Cabo.Thousands of miles away from Cancun and even further from Chicago, from my family, from everything I knew. I struggled to keep my panic at bay, reminding myself that I was Demi Malone. I’d faced down rival gangsters and corrupt politicians. I could handle this. Him. Couldn’t I?
My brows snapped together. “And what makes you think I’m just going to go along with this little half-baked plan of yours?” I challenged, raising a questioning brow.
Ozias’s full lips quirked up in a partial smile that radiated confidence. “Because,mi amor, you don’t have a fuckin’ choice.”
I belted out a harsh laugh. “There’s always a choice, Ozias. And I choose to tell you to go to fuckin’ hell where you belong!”
Instead of getting angry, he looked almost impressed. “Such fire. It’s one of the things I’m starting to admire most about you, you know.”
“Save it,” I snapped. “I’m not interested in your admiration or anything else you have to offer.”
He tilted his head, studying me intently. “You’re not the least bit curious about the big, bad El Diablo?” Ozias teased, but there was an edge to his voice.
“I know everything I need to know about you,” I answered carefully. “Every time I think about the loss of my best friend, I’ll have a chilling reminder of who you really are.”
Something flashed in Ozias’s eyes—maybe hurt or regret—but it was gone before I could be sure. “And who am I, Miss Malone? Please, enlighten me.”
I leaned forward, meeting his icy gaze head-on. “You’re a fucking monster. A killer. An unhinged menace to fuckin’ society who gets off on power and control.”
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the steady thrum of the jet engines. Then, slowly, Ozias rose from his seat and crossed over to where I was seated. I tensed immediately, ready to defend myself if necessary, but he simply crouched down in front of me, his face level with mine.
“You're right about one thing,” he said softly. “Iama killer. I’ve done things that would make you never want to close your eyes again for the rest of your life. But the rest of that shit? You’re wrong about.”
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way my heart bucked against its reins.With his recipe of good looks, charm, and apparent wealth, Ozias was the epitome of a modern-day melanated prince charming with a dash ofSazón.
“Oh? Now I guess it’s your turn to enlighten me,” I said finally.
Ozias reached out, brushing a stray curl away from my face. I flinched at the contact, but I didn’t pull away. “I care about more than you know, Demi. That’s why we’re here. That’s why I had to take you.”
“What are you talking about?” I whispered, hating how breathless I sounded in his presence.
He stood abruptly, turning away from me. “Get some rest. We’ll be landing in about another hour or so, and you’ll need your strength.”
“Ozias,” I called out as he started to walk away. “Tell me the truth. Why am I really here?”
He paused at the door to what I assumed was a bedroom, his hand on the handle. For a moment, I thought he was going to ignore me. But then he turned, and the look in his eyes made my breath catch in my throat.