Page 17 of Rio (Knight Empire #3)

RIO

I’m already in Belize. Landed last night.

I’m sitting in the hotel lobby, sipping a rich cup of coffee fresh from the restaurant. It tastes different. Richer. Fresher. The weather here is warm and tropical. A pleasant contrast from the chilly, overcast and damp New York I’ve left behind.

I need to make a start on the day, even though the glittering pool beckons again. I checked into the best hotel here, at the Peninsula. I wasn’t expecting it to be this good, and my mouth fell open when I walked in.

I have a suite, like always, but I didn’t expect to have one here.

Belize isn’t Turks all glass walls and white marble with limestone floors.

The full-length windows along one side offer breathtaking views.

I imagine the sunsets from here will be spectacular.

There’s also a balcony that looks out onto a shimmering turquoise sea.

A balcony.

Just the thought of that takes me back to Raquel’s balcony in S?o Paulo.

Damn it.

I shake my head.

I came here to forget her.

Air-conditioning and room service. It has a fully stocked wet bar. Perfect. And I’ve had a refreshing night’s sleep in the super-king-sized bed. Crisp white linen. Fresh orchids in the vases.

My kind of luxury.

I had a quiet dinner by myself, some drinks too.

Met Tomas Carrillo for drinks in the bar.

He’s my contact here and the on-site logistics coordinator for Delport Realty, the company behind the eco resort.

He’s a rugged guy in his fifties. A local and a family man with grandkids.

He’s humble. Easy-going, with a weathered face.

He knows the terrain, the people, and knows how to get things done.

Over rum and quiet conversation, we talked about the eco resort and the noise caused by EcoGuardians who have now mobilized the support of the locals. I need to find out their concerns, deal with them and put them to bed.

He started to hint at things. Off the record stuff.

Warnings. The kind that suggest the resort’s promises come with a price, not just to the budget, but to the land and the people.

Though he works on the project, he’s deeply rooted in the local community, and over rum and quiet conversation, he said a few things that made me wonder whose side he was on.

There’s something about him; a quiet authority, some kind of moral compass he’s trying to keep hidden under all the logistics talk.

It got me wondering if everything is as clear cut as the old man said it was. This is still very much a construction site, with the final touches being made. As far as I’m aware, there should be no problem with it being ready to open in a month.

After Tomas left, I went through some papers, then got an early night. This morning, I woke up and swam a few laps in the hotel pool. Had a long, lazy breakfast with strong coffee and a view of the ocean. I’m not in a rush. I’ve got ten days. Plenty of time to fix this mess.

I’m meeting Tomas at the construction site today and later there are a handful of local government officials I need to meet with. Should be an easy day.

I check my phone and see an email from the old man. Short and sharp:

Don’t let this get out of hand.

As if I need a reminder. I know what needs to be done. Check on the construction site, see what trouble the NGO are causing. Maybe set up a meeting with a journalist or get the community together at the town hall and smooth over the local anger.

Simple.

This is going to be more of a vacation than anything else. If there’s evidence of wrong-doing, then I’ll have to deal with it. I know what the old man is like. I know he’s never above board with anything, especially business dealings.

Just look at Dani’s father, but luckily we fixed that injustice. Still, this isn’t a project we’re directly involved in. Delport Realty is, and maybe they have more morals than Knight Enterprises.

***

RAQUEL

I’m feeling more energized after the debrief at HQ and a light lunch, but I’m still hot and sweaty. Time is of the essence and I don’t want to waste a second.

We’re off to see the eco resort. We have temporary access to speak with the on-site workers and observe conditions firsthand, but Alma warns me that it’s still a construction site.

We set off, but decide to stop off at the coastline first. She takes me on a short tour, and I see the destruction up close. Mangroves gutted. Trees fallen. Scarred land where once there was forest. The breeze off the water can’t cool the heat in my chest.

She points out the damage as we go. I see everything and it makes me physically sick.

Now I understand the quiet anger burning behind Alma’s eyes.

If I had children, if I lived on a paradise island and outside companies run by people who don’t even live here—people with only money and capital at stake—started building their monstrosities, my blood would boil, too.

When I’ve seen enough, I tell her I need to see the eco resort, so we head there. As soon as we get to the site, I’m ready to interview the workers, observe the conditions, and get a sense of the project firsthand.

Two men approach us, with apprehension. Alma points out that one is the new foreman, and the other a logistics coordinator.

She introduces them both. The foreman, a man called Orlando, seems busy, and distracted, but the other man, Tomas, starts chatting away to Alma.

They seem to know one another, and he offers to take us around the site.

From the outside, the resort looks nice enough, but it’s clearly not finished.

There’s machinery and equipment lying around and the whole place needs cleaning and polish before it could ever pass for the luxury paradise in the brochures.

But we’re here to throw a wrench in that dream.

“See that?” Alma says, her voice full of disapproval. She points toward the shoreline where the afternoon light catches on a cloud of silt bleeding into the turquoise water, stirred up by dredging equipment that shouldn’t be running this close to the reef.

A flash of anger shoots through me. I know that plume.

I’ve seen it too many times in places that don’t make the travel magazines.

It’s the beginning of the end for the life under that water.

My hands fist, my nails slicing into my palms, and for a second, I’m taken back to the favela, to the smell of the oil-slicked river near us, and I hear my neighbors shouting at the men who came to take what little we had left.

After I landed here, as Alma drove me to HQ, I saw the sea and greenery from a distance. This place was paradise, but now that I’ve been up close and inspected the damage, anger wells inside me.

“We’re going to halt this soon enough,” I whisper to Alama, indignation seething out of my pores.

The deep growl of an engine interrupts us, causing us all to turn.

A black, shiny Jeep, a monster of an automobile, pulls up right outside the entrance to the eco resort.

The door swings open and out steps a man looking like trouble.

He’s wearing Aviators and a grin that is all arrogance and mischief, like he just won something.

Tall and broad-shouldered, he’s in a crisp white linen shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, with the sun catching the dark tan of his forearms. He’s wearing charcoal trousers that fit like they were made for him, and boots that send dust curling in late-afternoon light.

“Caraca,” I groan. Because … what are the chances?

I know that man.

At the same time, Tomas informs us, “He’s from the parent company and he’s overseeing launch logistics.”

I stop breathing.

Rio Knight. Overseeing launch logistics.

My mind whirs furiously, because I don’t recall seeing the name of Knight Enterprises anywhere.

The man I was hoping to never run into again now stares in our direction. I can’t move. Then he starts walking towards me, with that cocky swagger, looking straight at me, even though I can’t see his eyes.

“Meu Deus,” I hiss, louder than I intend. My God.

“Do you know him?” Alma’s voice is suddenly cautious.

He takes off his dark shades, and our eyes lock.

He smiles.

That cheesy, annoying, sexy smile of his, the one where just the corners of his lips turn up. His beard is newly trimmed. He looks fresh and clean and my body begins to sweat more profusely than ever whereas he looks like he stepped out of a cologne ad.

“I don’t believe this,” I murmur, a knot of indignation choking my throat.

Rio walks up to me. His lips upturned at the corners, looking too smug for words.

He hangs his shades on the neck of his white T. “Don’t tell me they let you in here legally.” That voice, smooth as satin, reverberates deep in my core.

I can’t help myself. “Don’t tell me Daddy called and had you running off to do his bidding again?”

“You two know each other?” Tomas asks.

“Who is this?” Alma asks quietly.

Rio’s fury comes off him like heat from a wildfire. We don’t answer, and our eyes are fixed on each other, untrusting and cold.

“Well, well.” This time Rio flashes me a full smile that reveals his perfect white teeth. “The climate crusader is on a crusade. Are you behind the noise?”

My nostrils flare. “If I’d known you were the one behind this mess, I wouldn’t have wasted sunscreen.”

Our eyes are on fire. Our voices stay cool.

“Meu Deus, just when I thought today couldn’t get more colonial,” I toss at him.

“Meu Deus?” His eyes twinkle with mischief, and he puts his hands on his hips. “I’m not God, though you might be forgiven for thinking so.”

“Why are you here?” I hiss, poking a finger into his chest.

“I could ask the same.” He takes hold of my finger, his eyes burning, his jaw locked. His touch is like fire. It always is. I flinch.

Tomas steps in. “We should get a move on, boss.”

It’s only then that I realize how close we are to one another. Rio drops my finger like I burned him.

I’m not the only one who felt the fire.

But Rio ignores the man and stays put, folding his arms as my gaze falls to the faint outline of his biceps under that T. His black and gold designer watch glints under the sun.

“Are you people behind Delport Realty?” My heart is racing, and I’m hoping to wake up from this nightmare. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had a dream about this man.

He doesn’t answer.

We’re like two bulls, facing each other, ready to lock horns.

“Tomas?” Alma turns to him. So do I.

“Tomas.” I look him in the eye. “Is Delport Realty a subsidiary of Knight Enterprises?”

He shrugs. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

“What does it matter if it is?” Rio asks.

I’m still trying to process this very unlikely event and start to wonder if he’s stalking me. “You people… you people infect everything you touch.”

“Not everything.” His gaze dips lower, to my lips, then lower. I know, I just know , he’s talking about whatever is going on between us. He’s already there. Bringing our personal matters to the fore.

“Was Daddy not available to escort you to this fight?”

He shakes his head slowly, showering me with disapproval.

“Always fighting talk with you, huh, prin—” He cuts off, remembers where he is, who he is and what he’s representing.

But, at the same time, clearly, he’s remembering what went down between us.

He clears his throat. “I’m here to monitor and protect legitimate investments. ”

Meu Deus.

It is all owned by Knight Enterprises.

“You people manage to get your claws and your hooks into every decent part of the world,” I snap. “Into anything and everything that you can make money off.”

“We should look around the site,” Tomas tells him, glancing at his watch, “If we’re to meet the—”

“I’d love to stay and make small talk with you,” Rio interjects, making me wonder what Tomas was going to say that he didn’t want me to hear. “But I have meetings to attend, things to do.”

I close my eyes, and take a moment after Rio disappears out of sight.

“You do know each other,” Alma says softly. “The way you just lit up. It was like fire was burning inside you.”

I wince. This is not what I needed. This man is a complication wrapped in temptation. He’s dangerous in every way that matters. I came here to have a much-needed break, from Pierce, from work.

But also from this man.

Because I remember everything. The heat of his mouth, the way he looked at me like I was a dare he couldn’t resist. A single glance from him still gets under my skin.

He makes me feel reckless, like the girl who once dreamed of escape, not the lawyer who fights for it now.

And beneath all that is the bigger truth, and problem.

This resort, this damage, this fight, it’s all tied to Knight Enterprises.

To them. That family. “Did you know they were behind it?” I ask her, ignoring her question.

“Who?”

I’m not sure Alma would know. Thoughts run rampant in my chaotic mind as I try to process this.

Rio being here, Knight Enterprises being behind the eco resort and the injunction Alma wants me to file.

I am in utter shock. “We need to go back. We need to confirm who is behind Delport Realty. I need to do some more digging.”

Alma can see I’m wound up, because she doesn’t press me for any answers. She takes me back to HQ, and I look through the paperwork, both hers and mine, and check online.

Just as I suspected, it all leads back to Knight Enterprises. No wonder I didn’t know at first, when I decided to take this on. The Knights are hiding behind a shady shell company. Typical trickery.

I really shouldn’t be surprised.