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Hate Me: A mafia romance (Collateral Book 1) by LP Lovell (20)

Rafael

I swipe my hand down my face as I make my way up my front steps. The sun is already dropping below the horizon. My warehouse is a fucking shambles because, of course, when Dominges’ mercenaries went for Anna, they blew up the warehouse to distract me. This is the cartel. It happens, and we’re ready for it. I’m moving everything to a more secure location, but it takes work, planning. I’d usually just leave Samuel to deal with it all, but when I woke up next to Anna this morning, her soft breaths on my skin and my dick plastered against the front of my boxers, I needed to get out of the house. On top of that shit in the garden last night…she’s making me unhinged, and I can’t fucking afford to be.

The front door swings open and Carlos walks out. “Boss.” He moves past me, heading down the steps. “I have some business in town.” With Carlos that could be anything from gangs to one of his baby-mamas. I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off. “Anna is in the games room with my brother.” A smug grin pulls at his lips, and I glare at him. Laughter follows him as he rounds the corner of the house towards his bike. Prick.

When I walk inside, I go to the office and pour myself a drink. The liquor burns as it makes its way down my throat and settles in my gut. Tension clings to me like a second skin. My mind flits between business, Anna, Dominges, Nero and back again. There’s too much I don’t know, and too much that’s seemingly very hard to find out. Carlos has been looking for information on her for weeks, and he can’t find shit. Anna Vasiliev, orphaned at the age of five, placed in an orphanage with her sister, Una Vasiliev. Both of the girls’ records cut off when they’re thirteen, assumedly at the point where they were both sold. It’s as though they just ceased to exist from that point on. I suppose in essence, Anna doesn’t really exist, not in the real world. It’s why girls like her are so easy to take—they just slip under the radar.

The problem I have is that I don’t even know who or what she is, and neither does she. And yet the little warrior has this power over me, try as I might to fight it, I can’t, and she’s fast becoming a pretty little distraction. I want to know every sordid detail, every dark secret, and every sad little dream she has. I want to break her, crack that hard shell wide open and expose all the horrors beneath just so I can put her back together again. And all of it pisses me off because it makes me weak.

I sit there at my desk, reading over the same set of figures at least ten times before I toss them to the side with a groan. Leaving the office, I head towards the kitchen, but I pause in the hallway, tilting my head to the side when I hear…there it is again, the tinkling, almost musical, sound of laughter. I follow the sound to the games room.

Anna is leaning over the pool table, laughing as Lucas attempts to place her hands on the pool cue and line up her shot. “Look, you just have to…” His body lingers too close to hers, even though he makes a clear attempt not to press against her.

“You’re making it worse.”

“Just hold it properly. You can bend your arm, you know?”

She snorts. “I’ve never done it before.”

“I can tell.” He laughs. “Just,” he takes her wrist and slides it down the wood. “There, and look down the length of the cue.”

“You mean the stick?”

He groans. “You’re impossible.”

That smile…she could light up the world with it. She shifts, leaning closer to the table. She’s wearing another summer dress, not as short as the one she had on yesterday, but as she bends over, the hem rides up her thighs, threatening to brush her ass. Lucas steps back and of course, he fucking looks before he turns away, blushing and flapping. That’s when he spots me. His eyes widen, his mouth opening and then closing rapidly.

“Boss,” he squeaks. “We were just…”

“Lucas, you can go.”

He nods and quickly hurries to the door. I step aside, allowing him to leave.

Anna places the pool cue down and props her hip against the table, folding her arms over her chest. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the little warrior was giving me attitude. “You don’t have to be so…” She waves a hand through the air, at a loss for a word.

I move into the room, inching closer as though gravity itself were pulling me. “So, what, avecita?”

“Rude.”

I fight a smile and cock a brow. “Rude?” I come to a halt in front of her, so close that there’s barely an inch of space between us. She doesn’t back away, and I clench my fist at my side so I don’t touch her.

She tilts her head back and glares up at me. “Yes,” she says quietly.

“To Lucas?” My hand lands on her hip, gliding down to the hem of her dress before caressing the bare silky skin of her thigh. Her breath catches in surprise, and I force my hand away, clenching my jaw. Fuck. “Or because I come in here and find you with young Lucas, bent over the pool table in another short fucking dress?” I wouldn’t mind if it were me she was in here with, but then, I’d have probably had her sprawled on that table long before any game was finished.

“Why should it concern you? I’m just the whore you have to babysit, right?” She’s angry, and I crave the sound of the laughter I heard only moments before. But that wasn’t for me.

“I’d prefer you don’t act like a whore in my house,” I snap. My rage crackles through the air like a whip, and I expect her to flinch back. She doesn’t. “Lucas is here to guard you, nothing else.”

A high -pitched laugh slips from her lips. “You think, Lucas…” She shakes her head. “He’s not like that.”

I close the tiny bit of space between us and wrap my hand around her jaw, tilting her head to the side. The creamy length of her neck stretches before me, so fucking tempting. “We’re all like that,” I say right next to her ear.

“Even you?” she pushes.

My hand slips from her jaw to the back of her neck where I yank her tight against me. Soft to hard, light to dark. Her scent invades every sense I have, and I lean in, skimming my lips over her jaw. “Oh, avecita, especially me.”

She tilts her head even farther, like a damn invite. Her small hand lands on my chest, and it feels like electricity, prickling over my skin, even through my shirt. I’ve fucked countless women, and none have ever driven me mad the way her simple, innocent touch does. None have made me want to claim them. Her hand trails lower, over my stomach, inch by inch. The way she’s looking at me… as if I’m something she’s never seen or felt before. I clench my jaw and fight a groan that sounds more like a growl. Her hand snatches away, but I catch her wrist and bring it back to my chest, holding it there. I don’t know what I’m doing because I don‘t know what she’s doing to me.

She stares at my hand entrapping hers and swallows heavily. My phone dings in my pocket and I take it out, glancing at the screen. There’s a text from Samuel, requesting my presence.

“I have to go and handle something,” I say to her.

“Okay.”

“I’ll be back later.”

“Can I co…” she starts and then cuts off, pulling away from me.

“Don’t do that. If you want something, ask.” She says nothing, but I see the fight in her eyes, the war between who she wants to be and who she’s been forced to become. “Would you like to come with me?” I ask, ducking until I’m staring into those blue eyes of hers. She nods. I skim my lips across her cheek, and she trembles as I whisper against her ear. “Then say it, sweet Anna.”

“Please, can I come with you?”

“Yes, but I warn you, you might not like what you see.”

“I know.”

“Put on some clothes, before I change my mind and tear that fucking dress off you.” She lifts a brow, her eyes hardening. “I’ll bring the car around.”

* * *

I pull away from the main gate, acutely aware of Anna’s presence next to me. She stares out of the window as I guide the sports car out onto the desert road that leads into the city. I love Juarez, but as soon as I rose above street level, I craved open space and clean air. Juarez seems to live under a cloud of oppression and desperation, filled with men willing to do anything and everything just to survive, and for those really willing to take chances, like me, even thrive.

She turns to face me. “Whose are the horses?” she asks.

I frown. “You went to the stables?”

“I saw two in the paddock.” A small smile touches her lips.

“My grandfather used to have a small farm. He used horses to work the cattle.” She watches me with quiet curiosity. “I breed them. Call it a hobby if you will.”

“How many do you have?” she asks.

I shrug one shoulder. “Twenty maybe.”

She turns back to the window. “You’re full of surprises, Rafael.” She says nothing else for the rest of the drive until I pull up next to an old factory. I own it but haven’t had any use for it yet. One of my Hummers is parked, and I pull up beside it.

“Stay here,” I say to Anna. She glances at me, then at the scene past the windshield. Samuel and Carlos are leaning against the hood of the Hummer, watching as two of Sam’s guys keep hold of a teenager. At her silence, I stare at her, my jaw clenching. “Anna…”

“I’ll stay here,” she says.

I turn on the radio and crank the volume, sending classical music blaring through the speakers, before I get out and slam the door.

Samuel watches me approach and take up position next to him against the hood of the Hummer.

“You okay, boss?” He glances at the car behind me, a smirk working over his lips.

“Fine,” I grumble. I’m not fine. I look like a soft fuck because I have her here with me. The muted tones of violins blasting from inside the car reach us, adding dramatic effect to what’s about to happen. Everyone here is waiting to see what I’ll do. The kid fights the hands pinning him down as he stares at me, fire spitting in his eyes.

“Do you know who I am?” I ask.

“Fuck you. I don’t –“ I pull my gun and have the barrel pressed to his head in a split second.

With my free hand, I slide a cigar from the inside pocket of my jacket. Sam steps forward and lights it for me. I inhale the smoke deep into my lungs until that sweet burn simmers through my chest cavity. “I’m Rafael D’Cruze, kid.”

His eyes go wide. “I didn’t do shit. It’s a free country.” He tries to maintain his bravado, but it’s crumbling under the knowledge that he’s in deep shit. At least he has some semblance of a brain cell.

“That is where you are wrong.” I jab the gun into his forehead, and he swallows heavily. “Juarez is my city. How stupid are you to think that you can just start selling shit on my streets, hey?” In any other situation, I’d actually applaud him. He’s got a whole team of kids working for him, a mini-enterprise, but there’s no room for start-ups around here. Any competition, no matter how small, is damaging.

I narrow my eyes at him. He’s wearing jeans and a jacket, but they’re expensive. Designer. He’s no street rat. “Or maybe you don’t know.” I turn to Samuel, but my gaze drifts to the Mercedes parked beside the hummer. Anna watches me. Her eyebrows pulled into a frown. I don’t want her to see this shit, but she needs to. She needs to stop looking at me like I’m going to fucking save her, and I need to stop thinking I can. This is what I am, and neither she or I can change it. “You get his wallet?” Samuel digs into his pocket and throws me a leather wallet.

I take out the driver’s license and read over the address. “Nice digs, Antony Gastrello.” I smirk. “That name ring any bells, boys?” The kid swallows hard.

“No fucking way,” Samuel groans behind me.

I laugh. “The senator’s son is a dealer.” I tut. “What will daddy say about that?”

“He’s my uncle,” he spits, trying to shrug out from the guys holding him.

I move closer to him and grab him by the throat. His eyes go wide as I squeeze, feeling his carotid artery throb erratically against my fingers. He coughs and squirms, jerking to try and get free. I yank him close. “This is not your private school, you entitled little fuck. This is the cartel.” I release him, and he falls to the floor, choking and crying.

Taking my phone from my pocket, I call Benjamin, placing the call on loudspeaker. “Rafael,” he answers within two rings. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better, Benjamin.” Silence. “I do hate to deal with stupid bullshit, and yet I’m having to. I have one Antony Gastrello here. He any relation to you?” I glance at Antony, and the kid’s gone completely white.

“My nephew.”

“Well, he’s been running a little coke operation. You know how I feel about that, Benjamin. You know how I handle it.”

“Please. He’s…he’s just a stupid kid.” He sighs heavily.

“If I let off every kid that crossed me, I’d look weak. If I let teenagers run riot in my city, then the gangs think it’s ripe for the picking.”

“I know, but…”

“Would you like to speak with him?” I ask, grinning at the kid. I hold the phone toward him, placing it on speaker. “Say hello.”

“Uncle,” he barely whispers.

“What did you do?”

“I’m sorry. Please, just fix it.”

The senator goes quiet. “I’m not sure I can, Antony.”

The kid’s eyes fill with panic. “But you’re the senator!”

“And Rafael D’Cruze is the cartel!” He sighs. “You stupid boy.” The kid starts choking on his sobs, hunching over the dusty desert floor.

“I’ll be in touch, Benjamin,” I say, and hang up. I press the barrel of my gun to his head again and a car door slams.

“Rafael!” That voice—the whisper of an angel with the bite of a warrior. I clench my jaw and resist the urge to turn and face her.

“Samuel, put Anna back in the car.” There’s the shuffling of feet and then a car door slams.

The kid squeezes his eyes shut, and I lift the gun and pull the trigger. The bang echoes around us and a plume of dust kicks up where my bullet buried itself in the earth an inch from the kid’s knee. He opens his eyes and sucks in a deep breath, a wet patch spreading over his crotch.

“I happen to like your uncle, so go home. Do whatever it is privileged kids like you do.” He nods his head. “And if I catch you dealing, I find out you’ve even touched any product, I’ll kill you, regardless of your fortunate family ties.” He stares at me. “I don’t give second chances, kid. I rarely give a first.” He nods, and the guys step back, allowing him to scramble to his feet.

Tucking my gun back in the holster, I turn away. “Take him home, Samuel.” Sam nods, and I round the hood of the Mercedes before climbing in. The engine growls and spits when I start it, kicking up dust and gravel when I slam my foot on the accelerator.

I don’t say anything to her as I drive back into Juarez. She fidgets beside me, continuously tucking her hair behind her ear, even though it hasn’t moved. When I pull up at the mansion, the gates open, allowing me to pull up to the front of the house. I get out, and one of the guys rushes over to park the car for me. Without looking at Anna, I head inside the house and go to the office.

“Rafe.” I halt, my hand on the doorknob. Shit. No one calls me that except Carlos and Samuel, but from her lips, it twists me up.

I glance over my shoulder at her lingering in the hallway looking wary but so fucking strong. “What do you want, Anna?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She sighs and tilts her head back, dragging a hand through her long hair. Without conscious thought, I turn and start walking toward her.

She swallows heavily, and her fingers clench into small fists before releasing again. “You told me to stay in the car—”

“Yes, I fucking did.” I’m right in front of her now. I grip her jaw and force her to look at me. My eyes trace the shape of her perfect mouth, those lips, so full. “And yet here you stand, so unsure of yourself because you defied me.” I lean in closer, inhaling the scent of her as I trace my nose up the side of her neck. She smells like innocence and utter corruption. “So, was one man’s life worth my wrath, little warrior?”

“No,” she whispers. I pull back and stare at her. She meets my gaze unflinchingly. “But your conscience was.”

I laugh. “Oh, sweet little Anna. That ship has sailed.”

Her eyes gloss over, and she slowly lifts her hand, placing it on my face. The gentleness of it jolts me to my very core. She brushes the pads of her fingers over my lips. “You’re wrong. You let him live.”

I grab her wrist, pulling her hand away from me and kissing the inside of her wrist. “You’re wrong. He lives because his uncle is the Senator.”

“He was just a boy.”

“You know better than anyone that boys become men and men are capable of many things.” She nods, her shoulders slumping slightly, and that steely courage of hers dissipates. I miss it.

“Anna.” I caress the side of her neck.

“You’re not a monster,” she whispers. “I see you.”

Before I can stop myself, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and wrench her tight against me. My lips land on hers, and she tenses for a moment before her body slowly relaxes, her curves melding to me inch by inch. Her lips part tentatively, and my tongue brushes hers. She’s so careful, so unsure, it’s like she’s never been kissed before. And I realize she’s probably never been touched willingly in any way. Her small hands wind around my neck, searching, exploring. I groan against her lips, fighting the urge to take her, to destroy every inch of her. I can’t though. In any other world, Anna would be out of reach of men like me, but in this world, in the cruel world where girls like her are bought and sold; I want her. I want to fix her and ruin her for all others at the same time. She shifts and her hips press against me, brushing over my hard dick. Lust roars through my veins like a howling beast, driving me beyond the rational. I grab her waist and slam her against the wall, pressing between her legs. My lips seek out her neck, tasting the soft skin as I inhale her scent. It takes me a few seconds to realize that she’s gone completely still. I pull back and look at her. She stares at a spot over my shoulder, her hands resting loosely on my shoulders.

“Anna?” She’s just shut down, unresponsive, dead.

I step away from her, and though there are only inches between us, it feels more like a crater just ripped wide open at our feet. Clenching my fists, I take more steps away from her. Finally, she blinks and focuses on me.

“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head, sadness in those sapphire eyes before she walks away. I drag both hands through my hair and slam my fist into the wall.

“Dammit!” I have to fucking control myself around her. Or maybe I don’t. Maybe people like her and I should never be in the same realm. Darkness and light will consume each other, after all.

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