There's a knock on my office door. "Enter," I call, glancing up. I watch as Dimitri walks in, an envelope in his hand. He silently drops it on my desk and leaves.

Picking it up, I slide my finger beneath the flap and a cluster of pictures spill out onto the desk. My lips twitch in the shadow of a smile as I stare at a picture of Jude and Victoria Pearson standing on the patio of a villa, the little one clutched in her father's arms. They look happy. Content. Safe.

Oh, sure the American thinks he outsmarted me by faking his death and making it out. But I know he’s alive. What he did do was outsmart an entire cartel, took down the reigning royal family of Juarez, and for that...well, he has my respect. For that, I will allow the Pearson family to slip from existence, to live in the south of France in a tiny town under the names Mr. and Mrs. Veratau. They have earned that much.

I turn back to my computer and click the call button. It rings out and finally connects. Gabriel Estrada's face comes into view. He's sitting behind a desk, a cigarette in his mouth, and his elbows braced in front of him. I wonder if he knows of Pearson's deception or not. The American trusted him. It's possible, but then, when you need to die, you can trust no one. I should know.

"Russian." Acid drips from his tone and I smile. He hates me. Of course he does. A lion hates the man that keeps him chained, and Gabriel Estrada is indeed a lion. Dangerous, unpredictable, and feral. But he does have one weakness, the chain in question. I glance across the room to the wall of monitors and hone in on the bottom right screen. Camilla Estrada paces a bedroom, her long dark hair spiraling down her back like black satin. She's wearing jeans and a sleeveless shirt, but neither do anything to hide those lethal curves. I’d say she's a rather convenient piece of collateral.

"Gabriel,” I say with a smile, “I trust you are well."

He narrows his eyes. "You can go fuck yourself. I've doubled your drug supply, distributed your dirty Russian guns. I want my sister."

I pick up the smoldering cigar from the ashtray in front of me and take a slow drag. "Camilla chose to stay. You know this," I say on a smirk. A man must never reveal all his cards, but the simple fact is, without his chain, Gabriel Estrada would bite me. And Camilla is not all that she seems. She is not merely the pretty sister of a drug lord. Anyone who cares to look closely enough can see it. She will strengthen him, aid him, and I cannot have that, so when all was said and done, I made an offer: one of the hostages could leave. Camilla would never allow the child to stay here without her, and so I got to keep the fiery Latino. I can't say it upsets me. She's...intriguing.

I watch on the monitor as the door to her room opens and one of my men steps in. He moves towards her and she squares her shoulders. The second he touches her, she hits him. I fight a smile. So feisty.

"I hope that cold up in Narnia gives your shriveled little Russian dick gangrene."

I laugh. "So angry, Gabriel. I called to tell you that you have another shipment of guns coming this afternoon, oh, and some missiles. Some Cubans will be picking them up."

"What the fu—" I hang up, cutting him off.

I now have all of Russia at my feet, the strongest cartel in Mexico in my pocket, and a foothold to take America. Absolute, corrupt. Bad, dirty power. What higher calling can there be?

I inhale another stream of smoke before there's a knock at the door. "Enter."

The door opens and Camilla is shoved inside my office before the door closes again. She stares at me like a feral little animal wanting to pounce. I can almost see the bloodlust in her eyes. I push up from my desk, unable to keep my gaze from the smooth curves of her body. She lifts her chin and places her hands on her hips, daring. Always daring, that one.

"You've been a guest here a while," I smirk.

She glares. "Oh, yes, my stay has been so enjoyable," she says in that exotic accent. "Surrounded by filthy Russians."

"I'm so pleased to hear that you like the accommodations." I like to wind her up and watch her blow. And it is so very easy to wind up my little toy.

I take another puff from the cigar and blow the smoke in her face. Everything about her says she would slit my throat with a smile on her face, and that is something we have in common: smiling at death. She's so pretty. So dangerous, and so very easy to under estimate—a challenge. And what man doesn't live for a challenge?

"What do you want, diablo?"

"Ah," I laugh, "the devil." I arch a brow, circling behind her like a vulture. I lift a lock of her hair and inhale the scent of her shampoo. Being this close to her sends a crackling awareness through me. I'd very much like to have her. "Pet names so soon, krasivaya?"

She turns her head, staring me straight in the eye. "I will kill you," she says quietly, one brow rising.

"Oh," I trail a single finger over her shoulder, " I know you would." I lean in close to her ear, close enough I know the heat of my breath will likely send goosebumps racing over her skin. "That's what makes it all so exciting." Her jaw ticks, her full lips pressing into a tight line.

I let my fingers drift down to the very top of her ample breasts, and she slaps me. My cheek stings from the hit and my cock twitches with excitement, but I must put her in her place. I must always hold the power. I draw my hand back and slap her across the face so hard she gasps before her hand flies to her reddening cheek. "Do not try to overthrow the king, krasivaya. I am a fire that will do nothing but burn you."

There's a small amount of blood trickling from her lip which she spits on the floor. And then she glances back up at me, a wild flame of darkness flickering in her eyes as she smiles like a beautiful little devil. "Careful, Russian. I don't mind standing in the flames to watch you become ash."

A shot of adrenaline courses through me and I smirk. "Great men are forged in fire and it is but the privilege of lesser men to light that fire." I grip her jaw and she growls. "Your brother is such a man, and I will use you until he gives me everything I want." She glares and I laugh, releasing her and walking back behind my desk. "You should make yourself at home. You'll be here a while."

Follow Ronan's story in Bad, releasing November 7^th, 2017.