The meeting won’t end. Two top cartel leaders vying for power in my city sit on the opposite side of my desk. They’ve been arguing all evening, and I’ve let them.

Anywhere else, this would end in bloodshed, if they would have even agreed to be present in the same room, but they wouldn’t dare here. If they want to do business in New Orleans, they go through me or not at all.

I already know what deal will be sealed before they leave the room, because I decided yesterday. I don’t care that the Mexicans think they’re all powerful. In my city, there is only one king, and that’s me.

Rule with fear, but gain respect through actions.

That’s what I’ve done for almost twenty years since that piece of wisdom was imparted upon me by a dying cartel jefe the CIA set up for retirement in New Orleans. He also sparked the fire in my veins that resulted in me seizing control of an empire.

After that, my life became something I could never have imagined.

CIA. NSA. FBI. DEA. ICE. Cartels. Mafia. Yakuza. Bratva.

Now I work with them all, and the most important thing I’ve learned is power is the only thing that matters. Most men have too many weaknesses to hold on to it for long.

V steps into the room and nods at me.

The anticipation I’ve been holding at bay all night rises to the surface, and I shove it down.

The Mexicans continue arguing, and in my boredom, I allow my gaze to wander to the monitor on my desk showing various camera angles, specifically the room where I had V take her.

Would she be frantically searching for an exit? V didn’t text that there were any problems with the pickup. No indication she’d resisted.

There she is. She rips the hood from her head and her wild red hair spills free.

I tear my eyes from the screen and drag them back to the Mexicans as they argue some more. I listen with one ear, interjecting as necessary to keep it somewhat civil, but I find my gaze drawn to the screen again.

She hasn’t started yanking books from the shelves to find a way out. That’s at least interesting. But she’s a fascination that will lose its luster just as fast as any other.

After a few years at this level, everything ceased to become a challenge for me. I’ve been bored for nearly two decades, but I’m hoping one fiery redhead provides at least some diversion before I lose interest.

I’m ready for this meeting to be over. They’ve drawn it out long enough.

I study the men across my desk with disgust. Two of the most feared men in the Mexican drug trade, and I could execute both of them in my office and no one could touch me for it.

When you gain the reputation of having no limits, no weaknesses, and are willing to flood the streets with blood, people don’t test your boundaries or break your rules.

Part of me is disappointed that Keira Kilgore didn’t put up more of a fight. I thought that Irish redhead temper of hers might come roaring to the surface, but apparently not.

Definitely disappointing.

I turn my attention partially back to the discussion, at least until she turns to face the camera directly, like she’s found the lens and knows I’m watching her.

Her expression fills with defiance as she reaches for the belt of that ugly-as-sin trench coat, and I watch with rising interest. When she whips it off her body, dropping it to the floor, my cock twitches against the silk lining of my suit pants.

Fuck.

Me.

A smile tugs at my lips.

Maybe she’s not a disappointment after all.

She’s also completely stolen my attention from the conversation happening in front of me, which is unacceptable.

I will make myself wait.

It doesn’t matter that she’s standing stark naked in my library, wearing only the high heels I sent, her head held high and proud.

She will wait. Business always comes first.

Then she turns, stealing my attention once more.

My dick jerks again as she gives me a clear view of that perfect peach of an ass I now own.

At the bottom of her back, in the tramp-stamp region, are block letters that I don’t recall seeing mention of in any of the information I’d gotten on her, and certainly not in any of the photos.

With a flick of my wrist, I click the frame and zoom in, ignoring the argument in front of me completely.

A growl fills my throat and fire burns in my gut as I make out the words.

---

---

Keira Kilgore, you are definitely no disappointment after all. Let’s see how long that lasts.

She’s officially shattered my concentration, which is something she’ll pay for, but this meeting is over. I stand.

“Gustavo, you take the heroin and weed. Eduardo, you get the coke, pills, and meth.”

Both men jerk their heads in my direction.

“But—”

“Do you want to see your mistress tonight, Gustavo? Because if another goddamn word comes out of your mouth, I will put a bullet in your head and send her your dick in a box.”

His teeth clack shut, and I look to Eduardo. “Any complaints?”

“No. My organization will make it work.”

“Good, then we’re done here.”

My eyes snap back to the monitor and the woman whose arms are crossed behind her back, both middle fingers extended.

My nostrils flare.

No man would dare. Not even these two bastards in front of me who have hung bodies of innocents from bridges in Mexico for no more reason than to instill fear.

It seems my original instincts about Keira Kilgore were right. There’s a fire burning in her that I’ve never found in another woman.

It’s time to see my latest acquisition.