Page 90 of Severed By Vengeance

The business end of my HK was now pointed at the unfamiliar presence on the terrace. A more petite woman with long hair so black it looked blue under the moon’s glow. She was slender, her body encased in an all-black, skin-tight outfit. Her walk, calculated and leonine, exuded the confidence the one in my grasp had lacked.

“I suggest you lower your weapon,” she said, raising a perfectly arched brow. My eyes dropped to my chest, where I was dotted with a handful of red rifle spots.

“What fucking game are you playing here?”

“Please, let Sofía go. My aunt won’t be too happy if we go back toMéxicowithout her.” Her accented voice held an implicit warning, dark eyes fixed on mine.

The larger woman had stopped flailing, her body limp against the railing. I let her fall on the cold concrete and stepped toward Amalia.

TherealAmalia Montesinos.

“Explain,” I said, holstering my gun.

Amalia lifted her gaze to the surrounding buildings, and with a single nod, the glare of the rifle sights was instantly gone—a testament to the power she commanded.

“I had to know you were the real deal, Cain. I don’t do business with posers and wannabe bad guys with small dicks and no brains.”

She sauntered past me, licking her lips as she sized me up with a leering grin. “Hm, you don’t seem to have either of those problems.”

Amalia was an extraordinarily beautiful woman. Two months ago, I would have indulged in her company, but there was only one woman whose touch I craved.

“So, tell me, Mr. Cain, what exactly brings you here? Helena tells me, you want to take down a Russian crime family. That’s quite the ambition.”

“Something like that.”

“Surely, a man with your skill and resources doesn’t need my help to execute such a plan, no?”

Metal scraped against the concrete as she pulled out a chair and sat, crossing her legs and casually leaning back.

“This doesn’t involve Ares. It’s personal.”

The door slid open, and a young woman with features similar to that of the unconscious Sofia strode toward us with a bottle of cognac and two glasses.

“Please, sit. Have a drink and tell me more about thispersonalproblem of yours.”

I snatched a glance at our surroundings before taking a seat. The reputation ofLas Mercenariaspreceded them. Not one to let my guard down, I refused the offered drink and pierced her with a glare. “That’s my business. You get your money, and I get what I want: Dimitry Belov’s head on a fucking slab.”

Amalia took a swig of her drink and set the glass down with a laugh. “Well, that certainly sounds personal. Let me guess. This revenge plot involves… a woman?”

I clenched my teeth. “Do we have a deal or not?” She didn’t need to know the details. My trust only stretched so far, and I’d never chance Evangelina’s life.

“Seems I’ve hit the nail on the head.” Another wicked chuckle fell from her painted-red lips. “Ah, crimes of passion are one of my favorites. There’s nothing more romantic than a man defending his woman’s honor in blood.”

She got to her feet and rounded my chair. All my instincts flared to life the moment Amalia stood at my back. I moved my hand over the blade inside my jacket.

“Relax, Cain,” she murmured, breath fanning over my ear. “No blood will be spilled here tonight.” The back of her finger slowly slid down the side of my neck. “Unless… you’re into that sort of thing?”

I caught her wrist, and within a heartbeat, my body lit up with the lasers of red scopes.

Amalia put her free hand up, waving off my death. “A loyal man. You just keep impressing me, Cain. She is one lucky woman.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

EVANGELINA

Sweat droplets rolled down the curve of my cleavage and into my black sports bra. I set the weights on the floor and remained on the bench. My muscles were humming, tight from the intense, hour-long workout. Cold water splashed down the back of my throat, and I couldn’t help the exaggerated sigh that followed.

Derek’s home gym was impressive. It was easy to see how he maintained such a delicious, muscular figure. I lay back on the long, cushioned bench and closed my eyes as the memories of his tongue, his touch, and the command he held over my body ignited a different type of burn.