Page 18

Chapter Eighteen

Ellie

“Thanks for watching him for so long, Hunt.”

“Not a problem. I would’ve been happy to stay down here longer, but Cindy needs me.”

“I get it.”

I’m certain I’m not imagining my son’s hesitation to leave. I wrap my arms around his waist. Sometimes it still surprises me when I hug my boys that I’m hugging full-on men. Part of me still expects a little boy who leans against me, and my arms can go around him with ease. Now I rest my head on their chests, and they have to stoop to rest their head on top of mine. They’re solid when I hug them. As much as I miss their innocence, I’m grateful for their support.

I’m ready to let go, and Hunt usually does the same as soon as I do. I know they’re often indulging me. But this time, he doesn’t.

“Hunter, what’s wrong? Are you worried about leaving me here?”

“No. I just—It’s nothing.”

“What is it?”

He hesitates before running his hand through his hair. He looks at the door, then his shoulders droop. This isn’t my usual happy-go-lucky, everything-rolls-off-his-back-like-water-off-a-duck son.

“Seeing you with Enrique made me think about how things stand with Cindy. The way he looks at you—I don’t think I’ve ever looked at Cindy that way. I thought I had, but now, I really don’t know. How comfortable you are around him—you were never like that before. Your body language made it look like you’ve been a couple for decades not days. I don’t know that Cindy and I will ever get to that.”

That sounds like what Luciana told me.

“Hunt, why haven’t you and Cindy moved in together?”

My son flushes, and I want to roll my eyes. It’s not like I discuss my sons’ sex lives, but I’m not an idiot living under a rock.

“Hunt, you’re twenty-two, but you’ve been with her for three years. I’m definitely not advocating marriage at your age. In fact, I’d like to forbid all of you from marrying before you’re at least thirty-three. I married way too young at twenty-two, especially to another twenty-two-year-old.”

“I know you refuse to consider us actual adults until we’re over twenty-five, so that means only Will.”

“Despite what all of you have done, and how that’s matured you, your brain hasn’t caught up to your life experience. Thirty-three is a good age for having a fully developed brain and life experience. Even if I don’t advocate marriage, I still figured you’d at least be talking about moving in after all this time.”

“Are you hoping I’ll hate living with her and will break up with her?”

My eyes widen as I shake my head.

“No. I like Cindy, and I think you love each other. But it’s like you’re in a holding pattern. Even if you’re not talking about marriage, you never talk about what’s to come. Not even three months in the future, and certainly not years from now. You never talk about anything beyond a few weeks down the road. Yet you’ve both told me you belong together, that you’re perfect for each other. Is that what makes you perfect?”

“No. Hardly. One of us will bring up the future, and it’s like a cue to the other to bolt from the room. We’re not on the same page, so we don’t talk about it. I feel like I’m treading water. I don’t believe I need my entire life planned, but I feel like I’m still stuck in a college relationship rather than an adult one.”

“Where’s the disconnect? Does she want to settle down, and you don’t? Or the other way around?”

“I don’t know. We just avoid the topic.”

“Is it our family that’s holding you back? You’ll have to tell her if you stay together.”

“I know. That’s definitely not something I want to discuss, but it’s not even that. You haven’t been on a date with Enrique, yet you just know.”

“We haven’t been out to dinner and a movie, but we consider our walks our dates. I know the here and the now. I know what I want for the future. But I don’t know if that’ll happen. More than anything, I know what I don’t want. I remember Dad and I nearly broke up the night we got engaged. It happened a few hours after. I don’t remember what we said, but I remember needing space. We were in Hawaii, so I went out to sit on the sand in the middle of the night. A couple months later, he came down to DC to visit me. I had a studio then, so it was tight with the two of us for two weeks plus the yellow lab I had back then. Rather than just tell me he needed a breather from being together the entire time, he insisted on going out to a bar by himself. I didn’t understand why he’d want to do that if he was in town to visit me. It felt like he was ditching me and that anybody’s company was better than mine. I questioned why he wanted to look like a single guy out at a bar if he wasn’t looking to meet someone. I was so frustrated because he just wouldn’t tell me why. It wasn’t about sparing my feelings. He just didn’t think he needed to explain. I nearly told him to go to the bar and not come back. But I kept telling myself relationships aren’t easy. That for better or for worse meant not walking away just because I was unhappy. Things got better before he went back up to Boston, and I was excited about starting a life together. Things didn’t go how I hoped.”

I won’t say more than that because Hunt lived in the same house as us. He heard the arguments. He saw us give each other the cold shoulder. He remembers how uninvolved Tim was for most of his life.

“With Enrique, it’s like the weight I’ve carried for a lifetime isn’t so heavy anymore. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it’s there because he’s willing to shoulder it along with me. I can talk to him about how I feel without him getting evasive or annoyed or belittling. Nothing about him makes me think that’ll change the longer we’re together. I had hints of what would go wrong before I got married. I’m more secure than I was when I was in my early twenties. I don’t feel like I need to cater to Enrique or give in to him because I’m scared if I’m not perfect, he’ll leave. I feel seen and understood without having to explain.”

“That. The last bit. I don’t get that with Cindy. There are times I look at her and wonder if we switched bodies with other people and have never met before.”

“I’m sorry, honey bear. I’d make it better if I could. You need to think about what you want right now and what you want in the future if you think this relationship is for the long haul. If it’s more a situationship, then enjoy it until it isn’t fun anymore.”

“It stopped being fun a while ago. Do you see yourself growing old with Enrique?”

“I didn’t want to picture that. Or at least, I didn’t want to picture growing old living with someone else. I thought I’d be happy with his and her lives that overlapped when we wanted to be together, then went back to being independent when we didn’t. Once I let my guard down—or rather Enrique forced me to stop hiding behind it—I realized I want our life together. I don’t know if it’ll work out, but I want to try.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’m going to help Cindy, and once she feels better, we’re going to talk.”

“If you need anything, let me know. Otherwise, keep me posted.”

I never ask details unless they bring it up. I don’t want to be a Smother Mother, so it’s hard not knowing more. But I trust them, and they wind up telling me a lot of things on their own. I wonder if Enrique has a similar relationship with any of his nephews. I wonder if he ever regrets not having his own kids.

“I’ll let you know when I get home.”

I frown as I look toward the window. It’s already dark. I’m glad it’s only a four-hour drive on a major interstate and not winding country roads.

“Do you have to go back into the city, or are you getting straight on the highway?”

“I’m getting straight on the road. Are you going to be all right here?”

“Yes. I have work to do, then I’ll veg until I’m ready for bed. I’ll be here, writing for the next few days. When Enrique’s back, I’ll see whether those plans change.”

“All right. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey bear.”

I get one last hug, then I watch him walk out to his car. I lock the door and turn toward Constantine, who’s snoring on his bed in the living room. I walk past, and he barely opens an eye. But the moment I’m on the sofa with my laptop, he becomes a lapdog.

“I can’t type around your head, you big love bug.”

He merely sighs and gets comfier. I adjust him, my hands reaching the keyboard again. The next couple hours slip by, and I don’t notice. It’s not until my stomach rumbles that I look up. Constantine heads to the backdoor, and I follow him through the kitchen and let him into the yard. I sweep my gaze around the open space like I always do. Old habits die hard.

The moment I look to my right, I spy a manila envelope on the table. When I shift my gaze, I scrutinize everything I can see. I inch to the table, keeping my eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary. I grab the envelope with the corner of my shirt and call Constantine back inside. Immediately, I go to my office and get my testing kit out. I’m not touching this with my bare hands until I know it’s safe. I may be burying this shirt in a bag or burning it.

I exhale. It’s clean.

I rip the envelope open, glancing down at Constantine, who’s looking up at me expectantly. I swear the dog thinks anything I open must be a treat for him. I pat his broad head, and it gives me a moment of calm before I pull out the contents.

Motherfucker!

What the fuck?

I spread photos out that show me doing all sorts of things. There are photos of me working out in my garage and kneeling to weed my flowerbeds. But it’s not just my front yard. Oh, no. There are photos of me in the backyard—not flattering ones of me bending over. Whoever this is, I’ll fuck them up just for that.

There are photos of Enrique and me on our walks in the park and farther up the street from my house. These aren’t photos the dash cam could have caught. There are photos of Enrique coming in and out of my house and of the guards parked in my driveway. There are photos of them when they’re staked out among the trees separating my property from my neighbors. They were invisible unless you knew what to look for.

Touching only the very edges, I turn them over, but there’s nothing handwritten or printed on them. I hold them to the light, and I see no marks on them. I check inside the envelope again, but there’s nothing else. Just two dozen photos. That’s not meant to freak me out or anything.

How’d they get in my backyard?

I’m pretty positive a drone took most of these photos. Is it precise enough to drop the envelope propped up on a table? I don’t think it would be. I don’t know. The more reasonable explanation is someone’s been in my backyard.

When?

It had to be within the two-and-a-half hours I was out with Enrique because I glanced out the backdoor before we left. I always check the doors and scan the front and backyard in case anything’s out of place because of shit like this.

I let talking to Hunt distract me. I didn’t look out back because I forgot, and I didn’t check until Constantine needed to go out. Shame on me. I’m usually not this lax.

I pull out another kit and dust for fingerprints.

Gotcha fucknut.

There are prints where I didn’t touch the envelope or photos. I can’t run them here, but I’m certain Enrique has a way. I’m cautious as I tuck them back into the envelope. There aren’t any nudie pics of me—yet. That’s what I’m worried about. That’s the next step. If they wanted to send photos of me away from the house, they would’ve. It’s creepy enough they got pics of me in my fenced backyard. They don’t need to send me proof of going to the grocery store. If they can invade my privacy more, then that’s what they’ll prove.

Thank God Enrique and I made sure all the blinds and curtains were closed before we had our sex fest.

I grab my phone and dial Enrique’s number, which I got yesterday morning after we had at least six rounds of sex. I don’t expect him to answer, so I leave a message. I don’t want to panic him, but I need him here.

Who the fuck did this ?

The most obvious is Tommaso, since the car with the dash cam was around before Enrique and I met. The photos of me working out and in the front yard are from before he walked into my life.

I’ll call Tommaso, but I want to consider alternatives first. I start with Boston families since they’re obvious.

The O’Malleys — those motherfuckers couldn’t find their asses in a bucket with lights shining out of them. They’ve fucked up so much they don’t sneeze without asking the O’Rourkes’ permission. They targeted the woman who married the O’Rourkes’ second-in-command. They’re also connected to a woman who married one of the O’Rourke twins, and that ties both the O’Malleys and the O’Rourkes to the Montreal mob. The O’Malleys are keeping their heads down, so none of the O’Rourkes get froggy and pick them off one by one.

The Iglesias — the churches. Too ridiculous to even laugh at. Those shitbags are just puppets—violent as fuck puppets—of the Espinozas who run the Culiacán out of Chihuahua. The Espinozas have ties to the Mancinellis through marriage. And they sure as fuck aren’t crossing Enrique. He’ll shut that entire enterprise down. I’ve heard the stories about his relationship with Jesus Espinoza. He does not like Jesus, who isn’t particularly fond of Enrique, but understands his place in the Latin American pecking order. He’s high, but nobody’s above Enrique.

The Colombians have a presence in Boston, but they’re more low profile. It’s the Mexican Culiacán who are the poster children for cartels. From what I know, Enrique set it up that way since he doesn’t have as large a Colombian community up there as he does here.

The Volkovs—their name means wolf. They do nothing but howl like the beaten dogs they are. Between the Kutsenkos down here—who don’t let them off a short leash—and their ongoing overlords in the Solntsevskaya bratva in Moscow, they wouldn’t reach this close to NYC.

The Solntsevskaya is the oldest and biggest modern bratva in Russia. We can thank them for the bratva arriving in America when they sent the original Ivankov over. They have ties to the Podolskaya, who are the Kutsenkos’ mortal enemies from crap that happened in the motherland and here. It’s why the Ivankov branch—run by the Kutsenkos—don’t let the Volkovs do jack diddly.

There are the lesser syndicates like the Polish and Albanians. No one should overlook them, but they’re at the mercy of the Ivankov bratva. The Kutsenkos chewed up and spat them out a few times. The Polish in NYC are persona non grata to the O’Rourkes, so the ones up in Boston tread lightly.

There are the street level gangs, but I had nothing to do with them. Tommaso didn’t use me much domestically, and definitely not locally. The chance for someone to recognize me was too great. I refused once I had the boys. I refused to have them watch someone murder me at the park.

I stare at my phone before I hit Tommaso’s contact. It rings four times.

“It’s late, Elodie.”

“Not that late when one of your goons left the photos on my patio table.”

“Huh?”

“Wake the fuck up, Tommaso, and tell me the truth.”

I hear Stella’s voice in the background, asking what I want.

“Put it on speaker for her, Tommy.” Only Stella can call him that, so it’s a definite slight when I do it.

“Elle?”

“I’m sorry to wake you, Stella, but this can’t wait.”

“What happened?”

“That’s what I want Tommaso to explain. Why did you have someone leave photos of me in an envelope on my back patio table?”

It may not be him, but I’ve learned to launch my attack with a bang. If I work up to accusing him of something, he has time to devise his lies. I’ve run circles around him for years, so I know I’m better off with the rapid-fire approach.

“I didn’t have anyone send anything. You asked me about a dash camera before your trip, and I said it wasn’t me.” He’s careful not to tell Stella anything that could endanger her.

“Yet, these photos of me in my front yard, working out in my garage, bending over in my backyard surface. There are photos of me going for walks with my boyfriend, Tommaso.”

I brace for impact.

“Your what?”

I knew it would hurt Stella to find out this way. But when Tommaso explodes in a moment, it’ll be good she’s there to keep him from ordering an assassin at my door in the next ten minutes.

“My boyfriend. I started seeing someone a couple months ago.”

“Who?”

Tommaso and Stella speak, and I don’t drop a beat.

“Enrique Diaz.”

Silence. Fucking crickets.

For five seconds.

“What the hell are you doing with that stronzo , Elodie? How could you betray me like that? Are you crazy? Do you have a death wish? Break up. Now!”

“Don’t bellow at me, Tommaso. I don’t work for you anymore. Consider this a courtesy for Stella’s sake, even if I wish I could’ve told you first, Stella.”

“If you’ve been together for a few months, why didn’t you tell me yourself sooner?”

“Business got in the way, Stella. I’m sorry.”

She falls quiet because she knows what that means, and I can practically hear Tommaso snarling.

“End it, Elodie.”

“No, Tommaso. Be glad I’m involved with him, or things wouldn’t have been so profitable.”

I hear his muffled voice as he tells Stella he’ll be back soon. He must be going to his office for the rest of this call. I already have my jammers on, so no one’s recording this call on my end. I turned them on before calling Enrique.

“You will end this, Elodie. Your loyalty is to your family, not some guy you’re fucking. He’ll probably kill you once he knows about your past.”

“He knows. I told him.”

“You broke the oath?”

“I never took it. Remember? I’m not a Made Woman.”

“You may as well have when you said your wedding vows.”

“Which are null and void now. I didn’t know who the guy I liked was when I met Enrique. He didn’t know my past, either. Circumstances forced us to confess before either of us wanted to. I didn’t tell him until after I got back. He told me before I left. I’ve been more loyal to you than you deserve. But my life is my own now. You aren’t a part of it except for being my friend’s husband. If you sent the photos to intimidate me into following orders, you wasted the paper they were printed on.”

“I didn’t order any surveillance on you, Elle. You’ve stayed out of sight, so I had no reason to. Clearly, I didn’t know about your boy toy.”

“Then who found out about me? Do you have a leak? Because someone’s watching me.”

“Could it be Pasha Kutsenko? Did he find out you carried out the hit on his wife’s uncle?”

“Maybe. But the camera pointed at my house before I met Enrique and a long time before Rio. The car with it hasn’t been on my street for a while. How would Pasha know about me before Rio or Enrique?”

“You’ve taken out their associates in Europe. Maybe they figured it out.”

“Then that means others may have too.”

Fuck me. I’ve always been so damn cautious.

“It’s possible.”

“Did you ever tell Salvatore about me? Could he be keeping an eye on me?”

“He knows I had someone better than any other syndicate, but he never knew it was you.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yeah. If he’d known, he would have asked to borrow you, or he would’ve approached you to freelance.”

Borrow .

Fuck him.

“What about one of his nephews?”

“I doubt it. I helped them a while back with a woman who was kidnapped. Turned out she was Misha Andreyev’s future sister-in-law. I don’t think it would be the Kutsenkos, either. They know I helped, and they don’t target women.”

I press my lips together. The saintly Kutsenkos aren’t so saintly. They may not allow anyone to abuse or sell women, but that doesn’t mean they don’t catch them in the crossfire. They were the first family to all get married, so with that many women in their homes, they’ve only gotten sneakier. I put nothing past them.

“That leaves the Irish. Did you get too close to the O’Malleys? Or did you fuck them over too much?” I’m running out of obvious possibilities.

“They’re a fucking mess, trying to regroup after what happened with Finn’s wife’s family and Sean’s wife. They’re in no position to come after someone like you. If they know who you are, then they know you’re a Vizzini. They’re fucking stupid, but not so stupid they don’t know we’d avenge you. And if they have photos of you with Enrique, they sure as fuck aren’t going near you enough to drop them off. They’re too weak right now to risk him annihilating them.”

“I doubt it’s Marcelo since this started before I shot his father. He’ll be too busy scrambling to hold on to his family’s empire now that Ignacio and Benicio are dead. The Kimuras are weak, just like you wanted.”

“Marcelo and I have a deal now that’s far better for both of us than anything his buffoon father negotiated.”

Small comfort.

“Moscow?”

“Maybe. It could be Tokyo or Osaka.”

“Nishida? I’ve been nowhere near his family in ten years. Why now?”

“Because you don’t have family close. That’s my guess. I think it’s someone foreign who’s banking on your being alone.”

“But they have photos of Enrique with me. That’s what doesn’t make sense. Who’s willing to take him on? I can’t think of too many people.”

“I doubt staying with him will be good for your health. You need to end things, Elle. You’re not a fool, but this is the most foolish thing you’ve ever done.”

“I won’t do that. You can’t order me to, and whoever this is won’t scare me into it.”

“Then you have no one to blame but yourself. I wash my hands of it and you.”

“Good. Then you won’t call me for anything else. If you’re playing me for a fool, and you’re behind this, Tommaso, there will be no recovering from this. Don’t make me put Will in that kind of position. Don’t make me discuss this with my father.”

“You’ve been doling out a lot of threats lately, Elodie. Most people don’t survive even one. Yet, I’ve been putting up with your attitude ever since you called me about this the first time.”

“If you really think my anger is misplaced, then you shouldn’t have gotten me involved in this to begin with. You should’ve kept me away from Ignacio. You had to know this was the only reaction I’d have to you breaking your word of honor to me.”

“The organization will always come before you or anyone else. I needed you to do the job I paid you for.”

“About that. I’m still waiting on that payment, Tommaso. I haven’t seen any change to my account since I’ve been back.”

“It’s the weekend.”

“And your point? You know that doesn’t prevent all transactions from going through. So, I expect to see the money in my account bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Or what, Elodie? What threat are you going to issue now?”

“I’ll tell Enrique. So far, all of this has been just business between you and me. Push me harder, and you’ll find out what it means to push me into the arms of the jefe de jefes . Is that what you want?”

“Bullshit. Don’t say I’m pushing you toward him when you’re probably on his dick right now.”

“Tommaso!”

Stella’s voice rings out in the background. She must have followed him to his office, or he decided it was safe enough to go back to his bedroom. Staying on the phone for them arguing isn’t a good use of my time, but I’ll let her chew him out for a moment before I interrupt.

“I’ll ask one last time, Tommaso, so tell me the truth because if you don’t, you’ll be lying in front of Stella about me. That’s one thing you haven’t done. Are you responsible for these photos?”

“For the last time, Elodie, no. I don’t even know what the fucking photos are besides what you told me.”

I sit back in my desk chair.

Tommaso is like every other syndicate man who lies about any and everything. But he vowed to Stella a long time ago that with family—which she considers me—he’ll either omit things or tell her straight to her face he can’t talk about it. He wouldn’t give her a bald-faced lie like he does about other things. It makes me confident he’s telling the truth. If not for my sake, then for Stella’s.

“All right, I choose to believe you. Don’t let Stella down, Tommaso.”

“Whatever, Elodie.”

“Bye. Va’ con Dio. ” Go with God.

“Bye, Elle.”

“Bye, Stella.”

I hang up, leaving them to whatever conversation they’ll have. I tilt my head back, wondering what the hell to do next. I don’t think there’s much I can do until Enrique gets here. And who knows how soon that’ll be?

I turn toward my front door, where somebody’s practically pounding it down. I sat staring off into space at my desk for an hour before I remembered I was hungry. I just made myself a bowl of pasta.

I check the peephole before opening the door.

“Oh, thank God, Enrique.”

“Ellie.”

His gaze sweeps over me before he does the same thing he did the first and second time he came over. He pushes the door closed and locks it as he spins me around and presses me against it. Our lips meet. The house could fall down around us, and we wouldn’t notice. Everything feels right in the world again as he kisses me.

I feel safer, braver, stronger with him than I ever did on my own, which is saying something, considering all I’ve done over the years. I lean against him, cupping his face for a moment, then sliding my fingertips down his neck to trace the tattoo I’ve memorized and wrapping my arms around him. I hold on to him for dear life as though he might disappear if I ease my hold even a little.

When we’re both breathless, we finally pull apart. It’s my turn to sweep my gaze over him, assuring myself he’s no worse for wear after his mission.

“Daddy?

“Yes, chiquita . I’m here.”

“God, I was so worried about you, and now there’s more for us to deal with.”

“I know, little one.”

“Are you hungry? I just made some pasta. I can get you a bowl.”

“I’m starving, but in a little bit. Right now, I want you in my arms.”

“All right, Daddy, if you say so.”

I smile as he scoops me up and carries me to the sofa. I shift to straddle him and once again lean into his embrace. Having his arms around me—it feels so perfect. Right now, it’s exactly what I need.

“Ellie, let me hold you for a while. This is too perfect to let go of. I need this to convince me you’re safe. Your message scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I knew even though I told you I’m safe, you’d still worry, but I needed you to know it’s important.”

“You didn’t tell your guards about the photos.”

I sit back. “Did you?”

“No. I asked if anything unusual happened or if you needed anything. Matías said he hadn’t seen you since he left you in here.”

I don’t respond, which makes Enrique furrow his brow.

“What’s going on besides the photos, Ellie?”

“The few times I went out while you were gone before I left on my trip, Andrés and Carlos would walk to the garage or front door ahead of me. Then they would sweep the house before I went in. When we got here, all three of your men got out of the cars with me. I was going to go to the front door but decided on the garage instead, so I wouldn’t be as exposed while I waited. It was weird that none of them went ahead of me. Matías caught up to me when I looked back at them. Only then did they go ahead of me. Pedro went into the house first, and Diego waited in the garage with me. It made me feel uneasy.”

Enrique watches me as I speak, and I grow more nervous by the word.

“Ellie, I know you’re uncomfortable telling me that because he’s my brother-in-law, but your safety is a higher priority than whether he gets his feelings hurt if I talk to him about this, which I will. There should’ve been a guy going in through the garage, a guy going through the front door, and one staying with you. That’s why I assigned three men to your detail.”

Do I mention Catalina whispered something to her husband before we left? It could be nothing at all. It could be something private between man and wife.

“Ellie, there’s something else you’re not telling me about this.”

“No, I’m just trying to work out in my head if I missed something about all of that. Maybe I misunderstood how they’d planned to do the sweep.”

“There’s no reason for you to make excuses if you feel uncomfortable. If I find out you’re keeping things from me that could affect your protection, you and I are going to have a come to Jesus, and it’ll be my hand and your ass having the conversation. Which reminds me, we’re going to discuss your ridiculous altruistic offer. I will work things out with my family no matter what we are unless we don’t work out. And that won’t be because somebody else got in the way.”

He gestures between us when he says we. If only it were that simple. But I appreciate how convinced of himself he is. He grabs my hips and pulls me forward.

“Whatever you’re not telling me has to do with that—not putting yourself ahead of my family. I’m doing my best not to lose my mind because I haven’t seen these photos that were dire enough for you to call me and leave a message while I was on a mission. I’m trying to keep calm and greet you properly, but you’re making it awfully hard, little one.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy, but I’m still struggling with whether I should say anything.”

I’m unprepared for him to unfasten my capris’ waistband and hoists me enough for me to have no choice but to lift my legs and move them as he lays me flat over his lap. He pulls my pants down, and his hand lands across both cheeks. He creates a steady rhythm, alternating sides. I kick my feet because it stings so much.

“Enrique, please!”

He ignores me, and just as the sting turns into a burn, he alters the pattern. Now two spanks on each side before moving on. He covers my ass, including my horizontal crack.

“Enrique, I’ll tell you. Please stop. It hurts.”

“I know it hurts. It’s supposed to. And I believe you’ll tell me. This wasn’t about getting an answer out of you. This is about you understanding I do not play games with your safety. I expect you to tell me anything that’s even remotely questionable. If you even think twice about it, then you will tell me about it. Ellie, with your background, you can figure out and accept a lot that might intimidate the average person. If it’s enough to bother you this much after it happened, then it’s significant. You will tell me right now.”

He lands an extra hard smack across both cheeks, then across my upper thighs. I howl with pain.

“It was something Catalina said to Matías. I couldn’t hear it, but it just made me feel funny after Matías didn’t walk up with me.”

I burst into tears and sob. He rubs his hand over my ass, and it’s so soothing. But I’m still upset. I continue to cry as he helps me to sit on his lap, his legs open with my ass between his thighs, so they don’t press against me. But that isn’t what either of us needs. We reach for his cargo pants at the same time. He unfastens them, and I pull his boxer briefs out of the way. He brings me down on his cock, and our gazes lock. We’ve resolved nothing, but things just got a little better.

“What do you mean Catalina said something to Matías?”

“I don’t know. Luciana seemed pretty accepting of me when she said one day she’d tell me what happened to her husband. That was after she said you and I look like we’ve been together far longer than we have. That there’s natural intimacy between us most couples don’t share unless they’ve been together for a while. Catalina called me ‘sister’ when she explained I should ask Matías for anything I need, but now I don’t know what to make of it. None of them really gave me any assurance they welcome me into their family.”

“They will.”

I shake my head.

“When Matías arrived, he went to say hello to Catalina. They both looked over at me before they whispered something to each other. It was while Luciana was talking to me. I just assumed it was a husband and a wife talking. I know it probably was, but I doubted it once we arrived. And then, when I found the envelope it made me suspicious all over again. Your men swept the house, so why didn’t they spot the envelope? If someone placed it on the table while Hunt was here, then they should’ve been in place to see anybody sneak onto my property.”

“I’m sorry, chiquita . I will find out what’s going on. I know Catalina. I don’t believe she had anything to do with this. I don’t believe Matías would either. But I trust my sister more than I do him. I won’t get angry at you for telling me this. I’m worried, too. You don’t know them yet. Just like you have to build their trust, it’s understandable they have to build yours. It doesn’t come naturally in this world. I will find out what’s going on.”

“Please don’t say anything to your sister about me doubting them.”

“I won’t, but I will find out why none of the men walked from the car to the door with you. Be honest with me, Ellie. If you went in through the garage, they would’ve closed the garage door behind you. How scared were you to be in there with those men?”

I don’t want to meet his gaze. I feel like a coward considering all I’ve done. Yet, it spooked me being alone with them.

“I had a knife in my purse, but I didn’t have my gun, Enrique. I had my keys out because I considered going in through the front door before I got out of the town car. They were in my pocket. If it had taken a moment longer for Matías to go in the house with Pedro or if Diego stepped away from the garage door, I would’ve gotten in and locked the car door. If any of them got any closer, I would’ve left.”

“Ellie, that’s a big deal, too. If you were apprehensive enough to plan an escape, something was seriously off.”

“I should show you the photos.”

“Yeah.”

I stand, neither of us liking it, but I have to show him. I don’t bother pulling up my pants. Instead, I kick them free. The last thing I want is that cotton rubbing against my skin. Since he doesn’t insist I wear them, I step around them. He slides his hand into mine as we walk into my office. He sees both testing kits on my desk and pulls me to a stop.

“Did you find anything with the contaminant test?”

“No, they were clean. There’s nothing on any of them, but I found fingerprints. I just don’t have a way to run them.”

“I’ll get them over to Joaquin. He can take care of it and let me know. Are you okay with him coming over, or do you want to go to my place instead?”

“I can’t leave Constantine here.”

“I didn’t think that you would. Wherever you go, your beast comes too.”

Constantine stood by me at the door when I peeped through the hole, but the moment he saw it was Enrique, he just wiggled until he got bored. I know he nudged Enrique’s thigh, and Enrique patted his head once before Constantine went to his bed. He’s thumping his tail right now since we walked past him.

There’s nothing beastly about my gentle giant. Just the opposite.

“I don’t know, Enrique. I know your property is safer with your guards patrolling, but I have an unreasonable fear of going near your men even though you’re with me. It was Andrés and Carlos who spotted the dash cam, but how do we know they weren’t the ones taking these photos?”

I shake my head at my own thoughts.

“That makes no sense. They didn’t know me when whoever this is took some of them. They had no way or reason to suspect me of anything. I—I’m not even thinking logically right now, Enrique. I don’t know what to make of all of this.”

“I know, little one, and neither do I, but we’ll figure it out together, whatever it is.”

“Thank you. I am not usually this easily bothered by things, but it just feels off, and I can’t put my finger on it. It’s throwing me for a loop. I don’t want to see ghosts where there are none.”

“No, this is a serious invasion of your privacy, Ellie. I don’t blame you for being upset. It was bad enough looking at them the first time, but I’m certain you were looking at it as evidence, not emotionally, as somebody who’s had their privacy violated.”

“True. It feels different looking at these a second time. All right. I can go with you, and I’d prefer that.”

“Of course you’re coming with me.”

“No, I mean in the same vehicle.”

“I didn’t think we’d drive separately. Pack a few days’ worth of clothes. We’ll pack Constantine’s food and bowls. We’ll take one of his beds, his treats, and his toys. You can stay as long as you want. We can always come back here at any time, either to return your stuff or to get more.”

I merely nod. He gives me a kiss and a soft pat on my backside before pointing me toward the stairs. I hear him dialing his phone while I grab my pants from the living room. Then his voice fades as I head up the stairs, but it’s still clear.

“Joaquin, I want you at my house with your computer. I have prints for you to run.”