Page 44 of Rio (Knight Empire #3)

RIO

I’m back in New York, about to head into the old man’s sterile and cold office. He told me to get my ass back home once news of the injunction being paused hit.

As I step inside, the air suddenly chills. Everything in this office is sharp and abstract, just like the old man sitting behind his huge desk. He’s furious. I see it in those glacial grey-blue eyes which fix on me like the cross-hairs of a rifle.

“The injunction is a fucking mess,” he says, quietly. It’s his calmness, despite his words, that warns me of just how pissed he is.

“It’s halted,” I say carefully. “For various reasons. Might not be so bad for us.”

“It was served by that lawyer woman. Daniela’s friend. I remember her from the wedding.” His words are sharp, and deliberate and my insides empty. This is not good. It’s way too close for my liking.

“How would you know that?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Pictures get around.” His vagueness rattles me. I have a dozen questions, but, deep down, he’s right. He knows who filed the injunction.

He steeples his hands. “This isn’t the result I wanted. You were sent there for a simple purpose.”

He looks at me, with his how-the-fuck-did-you-mess-up expression on his face. His perfectly manicured hands are clasped together on the table as leans forward, sucking the soul out of me with that look.

I can’t work out if he’s pissed about the pause, or about the actual injunction, but he’s not going to like what I have to say, because I can’t ignore what I saw.

Delport’s data doesn’t match reality. The damage is real.

The locals were telling the truth. I feel his fury, and suddenly understand something chilling.

He knew all along.

He knew Delport were at fault, and he sent me out to blind and stupidly naive, to lie and cover it all up.

To do his dirty work.

I take a deep inhale, flex my fists. I’ve been quietly investigating—requesting internal data from Delport, looking through audits and environmental reports, and I’ve started comparing site plans with satellite data, rainfall patterns, erosion zones.

There’s a pattern, and it stinks. Now that I’m no longer out there, I’ve started reviewing site plans and historical permit records.

I’m piecing it all together. I prepare myself for the onslaught as I let it out.

“I don’t think a lot of the information you have—or that you’ve been given—is correct.

I think Delport’s hiding things. A lot of things. ”

The old man likely knows all of this. He’s just not going to admit it.

I brace myself for the pushback, and denial. His lips curl up at the corners slightly, like he’s about to hit the knock out punch.

“Of course they are. It’s normal. This is how business works.”

The weighted silence is deafening. I open my mouth to protest, then think better of it.

“Do you think I’d let the locals stop this construction with complaints of a few dead mangroves and some blurry photos of erosion?” the old man growls.

“There’s much more evidence than that. Irrefutable evidence.”

“You’ve spent too long in the mud, boy. You seem to forget who you are.”

“This has nothing to do with who I am, but everything to do with justice and doing the right thing.”

“I don’t give a fuck about doing the right thing!” he rages.

I’m too shocked to move.

“You think those people are going to fix their coastline?” he rages.

“Rebuild their village? They can’t. They’ve got no infrastructure, no capital, no future.

We’re building something they can’t. Something that will make money.

Brings jobs. Progress. You think the world gets built on good intentions? ”

“We can do the right thing. We can—”

“Progress is messy. Sacrifices have to be made. If a few reefs get wrecked, if some fishing communities lose their bay, if the drinking water isn’t clear, it’s unfortunate—”

“It’s much more than that, the drinking water—”

He cuts me off again. “It’s unfortunate, but it’s reality.

Do you think any of those people would even have a job without companies like ours pushing through the red tape?

” His eyes narrow. “ We are not the problem. We’re the solution, and you need to remember that.

We do good in the world. It might not look like that at first, but it is.

We know. I know. And I won’t have you torpedoing that with your goddamn newfound conscience. ”

I don’t blink for a few seconds, my throat constricting with disgust.

So that’s it? That’s what he really thinks of the locals? Those poor people. Those poor children.

This is who we are?

Monsters.

The old man sees the destruction as a necessary inconvenience, the lawsuits as minor speed bumps, and human lives as irrelevant. Now that I’m sitting here, face-to-face with him, having heard those words from his mouth, I see him for what he is.

Not just ruthless.

Not just a monster.

But a force of evil that will keep going unless he’s stopped.

I always knew who he was, but I thought he might change with age. With time. Become less evil. No fucking chance. He’s warning me to keep my mouth shut, because it threatens his bottom line. But this time, I’m not going to sit back and let him dictate how this ends.

***

RAQUEL

Rio told me to wear a disguise.

I’m wearing a blonde wig—strange against my olive skin and dark brows. He said he’d pick me up, but I told him not to. I told him I’d get a taxi to his place. I want to surprise him.

I get ready in the washroom at the airport, then step out donning the blonde wig which looks odd against my coloring. I’ve also painted my lips red because I know Rio likes it. I wear it for myself, but the way Rio’s eyes always fixate on my lips tells me he really digs it. I want to please him.

As I get out of the taxi outside his apartment, I catch my breath. This place looks impressive. It’s everything I expected it to be. The concierge is expecting me and tells me to take the elevator to the top floor. I do, and when I get out, there’s only one door. I knock on it.

I’ve come early, because I want to catch him off guard.

He opens the door, wearing only shorts, looking like he stepped out of the shower, or the pool, which I see over his shoulder.

My insides heat in preparation. His face lights up into the biggest smile.

We’ve only been apart a week, but it feels like forever.

“Wow.” He pulls me into his arms and drops a slow, lingering kiss on my lips. “You’re early, I was taking a shower.”

“Perfect. You’re all nice and clean for me,” I murmur, stepping inside his apartment as he drags my small luggage trolley inside and closes the door. It feels strange seeing him, and not being in Belize—with the sea salt, the breeze, the exotic haze surrounding us.

Once inside, we kiss again, hands all over each other, tongues dueling.

It feels familiar and hot, and when his cock pokes into my hips, I’m even more desperate for him.

We pull apart, and he gives me a slow once-over.

“You came straight from work,” he says, appreciatively, before fingering a lock of blond hair between his fingers. “I like it.”

“You wanted me in a disguise.” I splay my arms out, and do a twirl. “Ta-da!” I say, with a flourish.

“Cute.” A playful smile dances on his lips and his eyes fill with fire.

“But …” He gently takes my wig off and sets it on top of my luggage trolley.

“I think you’re more perfect as my dark-haired princesa.

” He smoothes his hand over my hair, gaping at me like I’m a timeless painting from one of the masters.

He reaches for my hands. “You must be tired and hungry. We can get takeout. I was going to cook something, but you surprised me by arriving early.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No … no.” He reels me in for another slow, lingering kiss that makes me tingle below my waist.

“I am hungry.” I run my fingers slowly down his bare chest, before dropping them lower, and brushing them over his tented hardness.

This is what I’m hungry for. This is what I’ve been thinking of on my flight over.

I sink to my knees, my hand sliding into his shorts and freeing his big, beautiful cock.

My fingers wrap around him, and my mouth moistens in anticipation.

“Oh, baby, you don’t have to—” he starts, and then sighs as I finger his glossy tip.

“I’ve been thinking about this the whole time,” I rasp, gaping up at him, watching him lean back against the door, watching me.

I keep my eyes on his face as I wrap my lips around him and slide my mouth over him.

He groans, still watching, but now his face is a picture of pleasure.

I start to suck. The deeper I take him into my mouth, the more he groans, his fingers grabbing my hair, and tugging gently.

He pushes himself further into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat.

Then he lets loose, thrusting into my mouth with unbridled restraint.

Fucking my mouth, setting his own pace. And I let him because I hear his low growls and I know how much he loves this.

The more sounds he makes, the faster he thrusts. My eyes water, and I look up at him.

“ Princesa … “ His eyes are closed, his mouth open.

Then he comes, letting out a primordial grunt, letting go, letting loose.

Emptying himself. This big, tall, strong man is putty in my hands.

Soft and boneless. Lost in his own world, muttering sweet endearments and curses as he slowly untangles.

I love doing this to him; wielding a power that undoes him.

I wipe my mouth. His eyes flicker open. “You blow my fucking mind.”

“Yeah?” I stand up. “That’s not all I blew.”

That gets a chuckle from him, and he runs his thumb over my moist lips, back and forth, then with more force, like he’s smudging it. I let him. His eyes don’t leave my lips for a few seconds, and then they meet mine. He nods.