Five weeks later
Piper
I stretched my arms over my head, the sheet riding low to expose my bare torso, taking in the glassy lake outside our bedroom window. Cade’s hand snaked around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
“Good morning, Mrs. Montgomery.”
“Good morning, Mr. Montgomery.”
“It never gets old, does it?”
I laughed, snuggling closer to Cade’s warm chest, lazily drawing circles on his abs with my fingertip.
“Nope. Not even a little bit.”
“Can we stay here forever?”
“Why not? The guys have seemed to do okay since we’ve been gone.”
Neither of us had wanted to wait to start our lives together, so we’d thrown together a small wedding at our new home on the lake two weeks after Cade had proposed. The large lawn stretching out to meet the water was the perfect location for an intimate gathering. Will had given me away, and Jolie had been my maid of honor. All the guys at Shadow Force had stood up with Cade, and Will had stood next to him as his best man, after performing his fatherly role for me.
It had been a bit lopsided aesthetically for pictures, but neither of us had cared.
After the wedding, everyone had danced for hours on the lawn, and Cade and I had snuck away early the next morning for our honeymoon in Mahahual, Mexico, staying in that same palapa that we’d had just a few weeks before. We spent the days lying on the beach, soaking up the sun, and the nights making love as if tomorrow would never come. Our two-week honeymoon had drifted into another week off at home, making Cade’s cabin into a space for us both.
My home in Bristow, Virginia was put up for sale, and we’d traveled there for a couple of days to pack a few things into a moving truck and move them down. The house had never been home to me, so most of the furnishings were being sold along with it. It was just where I’d slept each night, and both Cade and I had wanted to make his beautiful, rustic cabin our permanent residence.
“Do we really have to go in today?” I loved working with Shadow Force, and the guys had made me feel so welcome, but I was going to miss the lazy days of being alone with Cade, making love whenever the mood struck—which was pretty much all the time—and working on the cabin together.
It was Monday morning, and the sun was just rising up over the lake, the light reflecting off the water like tiny diamonds dancing on the surface.
Cade sighed, folding his arms under his head as he stared up at the ceiling.
“That’s what they say. I am curious as to how Cruz is doing. Slater has refused to tell me anything while we’ve been away, so I’m assuming all is well. No news is good news and all that.”
“He’s been under for several weeks now. I am anxious to see if he’s learned anything useful.”
“Slater hasn’t told me that either.”
“Well, I guess that means we need to get dressed and get to work.”
I started to slide out from the covers when strong hands tugged me back against a hard chest. “Not so fast.”
I giggled when Cade’s fingers grazed lightly across my hipbone and over my tummy, circling around my belly button. His mouth followed the path his fingers had traced, and I shivered at the sensations his touch never ceased to draw from me.
“Cade.” It was a plea, a desperate cry for more, as I pressed closer to him.
Cade lifted his head, a wicked grin on his face as he lightly nipped the flesh above my hipbone. “Yes?”
“Stop torturing me.”
His husky chuckle sparked heat low in my belly. I was certain he’d always have this power over me, and it didn’t bother me at all.
“But it’s so much fun.”
He moved up my body, his lips finding mine as he gave me exactly what I’d been begging for. We took our time, worshiping each other’s bodies as we savored every last moment of our morning alone. When we lay spent and boneless, I snuggled closer to him, grateful that I’d come to my senses and taken a chance on love.
I’d been foolish to think I could go on with life without him. After Jake had died, I’d never thought I’d have the hope of a future with someone I loved—the hope of a family. And now, I had Cade as my husband, Will as my father, Levi, Cruz, Oscar, Ryder, and Jolie as my siblings, and it was just a matter of time before we’d add little Collins Montgomery to the family dynamic we’d crafted from the relationships we’d cultivated and nurtured.
We may not be blood, but we were no less a family.
For now, I was content to love my husband and enjoy the life we were creating—together.
Cade nuzzled my neck, placing a kiss in that spot just under my ear that drove me crazy. “I love you.” His voice was serious, a promise, a pledge.
I turned in his arms, propping myself up on my elbows to gaze into his handsome face. A face I’d never grow tired of looking at. With my lips just above his, our breaths mingling, breathing as one, I whispered the words I’d never grow tired of repeating.
“I love you, too. For always.”
***
Cruz
Five weeks earlier
It was a head game, and one Chavez had perfected over the years of his evil reign of terror. I sat waiting in the chair in front of his desk at his Miami house, an extravagant place, secluded, on an island in the middle of the Intracoastal Waterway, the swankiest island and most expensive real estate in the southeast.
Chavez had effectively rubbed elbows with all the rich and famous in Miami, supporting their businesses and padding their pockets, and so they welcomed him among their fold with open arms. It wasn’t just the men and women of means in the city but the police and politicians as well. Chavez moved about freely, selling guns and drugs to the gangs on the streets who took care of the dirty work in getting them to the population of people looking for the goods.
With his Atlanta compound out of commission, Chavez was reduced to using only his Miami residence while in the States. The location of his Venezuelan compound was unknown to the US Government and to Shadow Force, hidden deep inside the mountains and jungles of its beautiful landscape.
Chavez entered the room with an air of regality saved for monarchs and world leaders, wearing crisp black slacks ironed to perfection and a gray button-down shirt that probably cost more than most people made in a month.
“Cruz Ortiz, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Your reputation precedes you.”
“It’s good to know I meet your approval. You have quite the reputation yourself.”
Chavez tossed his head back in laughter, as if I’d just made the funniest joke ever.
“Yes, well, I’m certain that’s true. Now, let’s get down to business. I’ve acquired a fiancée who is a bit reluctant to remain at my house. She’s quite feisty, after all. One of the many reasons she’ll make the perfect wife for me. So, I need someone to accompany her on her errands, and ensure she makes it back safely.”
Code for, I need to make sure she remains a prisoner and can’t reach out for help.
“I’m not really the babysitter type of guy.”
Another chuckle from the monster, but this time his smile didn’t meet his eyes.
“Yes, a babysitter isn’t what I’m interested in. Ensuring my future wife’s safety against my enemies, people who might want to use her to get to me—that is my concern. Trust me; I will make it worth your while.”
The game I was playing was a tricky one. Seem too eager, and Chavez would become suspicious. Seem too uninterested, and Chavez would turn to other tactics to make me interested. I let the silence fall over the room for a minute or more before nodding.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
Chavez clapped his hands together in glee. “Wonderful! Just wonderful.”
He turned a small tablet around on his desk so that I could see the screen. It was grainy and black and white, paused so that I couldn’t make out what I was looking at.
“What’s this?”
“Just a warning. I feel it’s best to show people what happens to those who betray me.”
Chavez pressed play, and the grainy images took shape, morphing into a man whose arms were tied up above his head and spread out crucifixion style. The man’s face was unrecognizable, and he was stripped naked, his back bloody and torn, his torso covered with bruises and cuts.
A hooded figure came into view, dipping his head in acknowledgement to the camera. With a bat in his hand, he approached the battered man. The man whimpered, begging and pleading in Spanish. Pleading for his life. Pleading for death. Whatever was going to take away the excruciating pain.
With the bat raised above his head, the hooded figure swung, aiming for the man’s knees. A crack resounded through the camera as the man collapsed, screaming in agony. Flashbacks of a hooded figure using a branding iron on my body flashed through my mind. Cold sweat popped out on my brow as I struggled to regain control.
Chavez paused the video, his face completely serene as he’d watched the man being tortured on the screen.
“Are you all right?”
There was no compassion in his words—rather, one side of his mouth quirked up in a smile. The man knew exactly what his little video was doing to me.
I cleared my throat and sat up straighter in my chair. This monster wouldn’t get the best of me.
“Of course. Fine. I understand the message loud and clear. When do I start?”
Shock, and maybe a little bit of admiration, leaked into Chavez’s eyes as he nodded in approval.
“Very well. You must meet my fiancée.”
He stood, motioning for me to follow him. We walked up a flight of steps and to a pair of double doors. The doors were closed, but with a light knock, Chavez let himself in.
The room was opulent, as was the rest of Chavez’s multimillion-dollar home. A large chandelier was the focal point of the room; colorful hand-blown glass pendants shaped like flowers dangled from its arms, casting rainbows across the dark, hardwood floors. An ebony queen-sized canopy bed sat off to the side, the headboard and spindles hand-carved into ornate etchings. A colorful circular rug tied the room together with personality and a bit of whimsy. It was a room fit for a Venezuelan queen.
And with all the elegance and swagger of Her Majesty, Lydia Ayala sat in a high-backed chair near the window, her gaze riveted to mine. I’d convinced myself the pictures had been wrong that Levi and Cade had shown me while sharing the undercover op with me. I’d convinced myself it was a coincidence. No way was Lydia Ayala, the only woman I’d ever loved, engaged to Emilio Chavez, the South American Devil. But there she sat, proof that the past did come back to haunt you.
Chavez crossed the room, lifting Lydia from the chair by her elbows and wrapping his arms around her waist. He lowered his lips to hers, kissing her with such passion, it was almost as if he’d forgotten I was in the room. But he hadn’t forgotten. Nope. The whole thing was a show, just for me.
Lydia’s wide eyes stared at Chavez as he pulled away, shooting me a self-satisfied grin over his shoulder.
“Cruz Ortiz, meet my soon-to-be wife, Lydia.” With his hands on her shoulders, he held her at arm’s length, gazing down at her with possessiveness in his eyes. “Lydia, this is Cruz. He’ll be escorting you on your errands from here on out.”
“I told you, Emilio, dear, I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Yes, well. I’m more worried about my enemies getting to you. Cruz will keep you safe.”
Lydia straightened her shoulders, her feistiness still present despite her circumstances. She pulled away from Chavez’s grasp and closed the distance between us.
“Nice to meet you, Cruz.” Her hand was out for me to shake, and I hesitated to take it. I could see the puzzlement in her eyes, as if she were trying to figure out if she knew me. But she didn’t. Not the new me.
The plastic surgery to my face after my imprisonment three years ago had altered my face enough that I no longer looked just like Lorenzo Gallos, my former self. The self that had died in a hole in the ground somewhere in Venezuela. Lorenzo was dead, and Cruz Ortiz had been born, taking on the jobs only a dead man could get away with.
My skin was a little too smooth, my nose a little too straight, and my chin a little too defined. I still turned heads when I walked down the street, but everything seemed a little too perfect on my face when you were close up.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” I shook her hand, and electricity flew up my arm. She must have felt it too, since she jerked her arm back as if she’d been burned, then glanced over her shoulder to see if Chavez was watching. He was. Intently. And if I wasn’t mistaken, with a look of elation on his face that I didn’t trust.
“Yes, well. I, um, need to freshen up before dinner.” Lydia started towards the bathroom, but Chavez caught up to her, swinging her around into his arms.
“Wear the black dress, yes?”
Lydia’s cheeks reddened just a bit before she nodded.
“Good girl. Cruz will start tomorrow. Right?”
He directed his question to me, and I cleared my throat before answering. “Yes, sir.”
“Excellent.”
Chavez took Lydia’s lips in a domineering kiss, holding her so tightly I saw her wincing at the pain. I couldn’t take any more. I turned, walking so fast it was almost a run. When I reached my bike, I turned over the engine, anxious to rid myself of the memories, the longing, the broken dreams.
When I reached the tiny hotel room I’d secured a couple of days earlier, I threw myself on the bed, cursing the luck that had landed me back in Lydia’s life. Was she an innocent? There against her will? Or was there something about Chavez that excited her?
They were all questions I needed the answers to, and I planned to get them over the next few weeks. But for now, I let the emotions cover me, feeling them, giving in to the shock of seeing her again after so many years.
Lydia Ayala. The love of my life.
The woman who was engaged to the most dangerous man alive.