Just before dawn I slip from her arms. I don’t sleep much these days. Since Colombia I see shadows and movement in every dark corner. These past four hours wrapped around Eve’s luscious body have been the longest and deepest I’ve slept in months.

Once I’m showered and dressed I make my way downstairs. As I do I muse on how much I hated this house until approximately ten hours ago, when she bought back her grace and spark into my life and made everything light again. Material possessions have never held any interest with me. Like most things in life they’re to be used and discarded. It’s this mindset that made it so easy for me to slide into obscurity fifteen years ago. Emilio found it harder. He never shared the same discipline.

I find Joseph in the kitchen standing by the counter and hunched over his laptop. “It’s 4am. Don’t you sleep anymore?” he grumbles, not bothering to look up.

“Don’t you?” I shoot back, heading for the coffee machine.

“I never sleep.”

We don’t deserve to. Not after the cull we’ve orchestrated recently. The last six weeks have been tainted with a breathtaking violence, the likes of which we’ve never known before. When I look down I don’t see my hands anymore. Instead, I see weapons of death. My head is filled with the screams of our victims.

Without Eve to temper me my bloodlust ran unchecked. We hunted down and executed all of Emilio’s co-conspirators. Yesterday, right before I visited Sanders’ club, I held a gun to my treacherous cousin’s head and pulled the trigger. This was only after I’d extracted Emilio’s last known whereabouts during a protracted five hours. We took grim pleasure in our work. Nicolas was the one who gave the order to execute every single man I sent to America. What I did yesterday was done in their name and in their honor.

“What’s the name of that horse dealer in Montana?” I murmur, picking up my iPad and skimming through my emails. There’s another one from the PI team in Colombia. Still no news. This girl is proving as elusive as my brother. Fifteen years I’ve been searching for her and still nothing. Not even a glimpse.

“What’s wrong with a bunch of flowers?”

“Just find me the damn number,” I say, ignoring the jibe. “How are those new coordinates checking out?” I’m referring to the Intel we extracted from my pleading, dying cousin yesterday.

“Tomas has a team of men on the ground right now. Looks like we just missed him. We need to get over there and flush him out ourselves. He’s running out of places to hide.”

You screwed up big brother. The gamble never came to fruition, did it? Not even close. Did you really think you’d win this war against me? We’ve executed your allies. Your business is destroyed. Those four walls are closing in on you...

“Who’s the blonde?” asks Joseph interrupting my reverie.

“Which blonde?” I frown.

“The one in the club with Eve. I saw you talking by the entrance.”

I don’t see other women I only have eyes for my angel. I do read her daily security reports, though. “Some friend of hers… Anna I believe.”

“Pretty name.”

I glance up from the coffee machine in mild surprise. I’ve never heard Joseph take an interest in a woman before. “I thought brunettes were more your thing?”

“I’ll take a blonde with a body like that.”

“Why is everything so fucking monochrome in this house,” I grumble, switching my attention to the black tiles above his head. Eve’s right, the décor in here is shit.

“Hire a decorator then.”

Jesus, could he sound any more apathetic if he tried?

“Quit goading me. This time tomorrow we’ll be gone. I want it on the market by next week. I have no further use for this property.”

The renovations for my new island are nearly complete. I’ve had a team of hundreds working round the clock. It’s costing me millions but it’s billions that I have. The place will be fully operational in the next fortnight and then Eve can decorate away to her heart’s content. She doesn’t know my plans for her yet but she will do soon. Once Emilio’s six feet in the ground I’ll be back for my angel and nothing will ever part us again.

Change is afoot for all of us. Cartel warfare holds no interest for me anymore, we don’t need that kind of money. We kill for the thrill so my team and I are branching out. Eve’s initial assumptions about me may have proved somewhat of a premonition because we’re mercenaries now. Skilled guns for hire. These past six weeks have been as much about planning for the future as it has about revenge.

I scan my emails again. There’s one from Sanders.

“Rick’s happy with the terms. The deal’s as good as done.”

“I imagine he was. You just handed him a business with a twenty billion dollar turnover.” Joseph fixes me with his pale grey eyes. “Any regrets?”

“Easiest decision I ever made.”

That, and abducting an angel from a downtown liquor store.

Sanders came through for me. His stellar connections have resurrected my decimated army and restocked my arsenal. In return for his loyalty I’ve gifted him all US Santiago territories. It’s his business now. He can fend off the vultures for himself. As for me, I’m rising up from the burning ashes of my family’s name. I’m here for whoever wants to hire my bullets. I’ll take no sides in wars or conflicts.

I pour my coffee and scowl at the dishes piling up in the sink. “We need a maid for the island. Contact Sofía. She’s back in Colombia with her family… And stay the fuck away from that girl, Anna. She’s not available.”

“Is that so?”

“I mean it, Joseph.”

“And when the hell has that ever stopped you?” There’s an icy coolness to his gaze that would put the frighteners in anyone other than me.

“Manuel,” I state grimly. “He’s a good bodyguard. Eve trusts him. Anna fancies him. Don’t fuck it up.”

I grab my coffee and head back upstairs. I love to watch Eve sleep. She’s so peaceful. So childlike… I settle in the armchair by the bed and take a sip. She stirs, reaching out for me with one hand and then furrowing her brow when she senses I’m not lying next to her anymore.

She wants me even in her dreams.

She turns to face me and a lock of dark silk spills over her cheek as she does. I fight the urge to smooth it away. Since our reunion yesterday I can’t stop touching her. Last night we fucked and fucked until she begged me to stop. This woman is my obsession, my drug. Her sweetness is the only life source I need. I know it’s wrong, I don’t deserve her, but like Joseph said, when the hell has that ever stopped me? Could she ever love this cold-hearted killer? My mind won’t allow me to think the unthinkable, I’ll force her to if needs be. I took this woman hostage. I can steal her heart as well.

“Dante?” Her soft voice calls out to me and I swear to god I’m smiling just from the sound of it.

“I’m right here.”

“Come back to bed.”

I put my coffee down on the nightstand and remove my t-shirt in one fluid movement. My jeans are next. I’m hard already. “As you wish, my angel,” I say, sliding back into bed with her and wrapping my warmth around her slender frame. I press my erection against the curve of her ass cheeks and try to get a handle on my lust. Eve is exhausted. I’ll let her sleep for another hour and then I’ll satisfy us both all over again.

One more hurdle, I think to myself as I snake my arm around her waist. One more bloody scalp… One more retribution killing and then I’ll lose myself in this body forever.

“No way, Dante. No way! These are Bal Harbour shops!”

Eve’s delicate pale skin is flushed with color and her pale blue eyes are glinting sapphires. She looks so damn fuckable I can barely contain myself. Too bad we’re sat in the confined space of an SUV with two other men.

“Did you know about this?” she yells, turning to Joseph in the driver’s seat. Next to him Tomas is trying not to crack up. I kick the back of his seat with my foot and he straightens his face immediately.

“Certainly not, Miss Miller,” Joseph deadpans. No one can outlast an interrogation longer than him but he hasn’t faced my raging angel before.

“Oh don’t ‘Miss Miller’ me. If you’re gonna lie to my face I’d prefer it if you called me Eve!”

Joseph catches my eye in the mirror. Goddammit, even he’s trying not to laugh. This woman is bringing us all to our knees. “Just get out of the car Eve,” I snap, leaning across her to open her door with a violent shove. My cock jerks as my arm brushes against the side of her breast. They better have decent sized changing cubicles in these dress shops.

“Uh-uh. No way. No man, not even you, tells me what to wear. Not anymore.”

“Who says you have a choice?” I say mildly.

“Me!” she cries, slapping her chest with her hand. Jesus, she should be in the movies. “You may have charmed my body, Santiago, but my freewill is not so easily seduced.”

Charmed her body? That’s an interesting turn of phrase. More like fucked it into next century… I’m feeling a little exhausted myself right now.

Exiting the car, I glance at the exclusive row of shops in front of me. This whole place reeks of money. It’s perfect for my angel. Leaning back inside the vehicle, I grab her wrist and manage to coax her out onto the pavement.

“I don’t want to go shopping, Dante!”

A woman who doesn’t want to go shopping? I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous in my life. I contemplate tipping her over my shoulder and carrying her into the damn shops but she’s still wearing that far-too-short silver monstrosity from last night, even though I insisted she wear one of my white t-shirts over the top.

“Are you even listening to me?”

She’s standing there glaring at me, my fingers still wrapped like a cuff around her slim wrist. If she could chuck me under a passing bus right now she probably would.

“A compromise then,” I say, yanking her closer and placing my other hand on the hollow of her back, locking her against me, breathing in traces of citrus from her shampoo that does absolutely nothing to ease my aching erection. “Why don’t we choose your new wardrobe together?”

“You’re still not hearing me,” she hisses, her body as rigid in my arms as my dick is in my pants. “You keep telling me I’m not your whore and then you go all Pretty Woman on me.” She struggles to free herself from the prison cell of my embrace. “I don’t want your money. I will never want your money.”

Because it’s tainted.

The unspoken words lay heavy and toxic between us.

“For fuck’s sake, Eve!” I explode, making passers-by stare. “I’ve never known it so hard to give a woman a damn present.” I let go of her and take a step back, balling my palms into fists of frustration and thrusting them into the front pockets of my jeans. She has the ability to light my fuse quicker than anyone but it’s a different sort of anger with her. The only retribution I have in mind comes anchored with pleasure.

We glare at each other and then out of nowhere she goes and fucking smiles at me, just like that. Flooring me completely.

“Ask nicely.”

“What?”

“Stop demanding I do everything your way. I’m only going to buck against the interference.”

“So you want me to drop to my knees and beg to buy you a dress? Why don’t I just carve my heart out for you whilst I’m down there.”

She has the nerve to roll her fucking eyes at me then. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

“Jesus Christ, did you just say that to me? I’m really going to punish you for that!”

Judging from the sly smile creeping across those luscious pink lips that’s exactly what she’s planning on

She’s played me... Again.

“Evie!”

Evie?

We turn together, Eve out of recognition and me thankful for a respite from this stupid argument. A tall, vaguely familiar-looking man in his mid-fifties is crossing the road in front of my SUV and smiling in obvious delight at my angel.

I cast a practiced eye over him, taking in everything, leaving out nothing. Joseph has exited the car discreetly as well and is doing the same thing. He’s a handsome guy with thick salt and pepper hair but there are faint lines on his face that cannot be attributed to age alone. My guess is they’re a fairly recent acquisition. His body is lean and firm, the guy works out, but he’s favoring his left arm. As I watch he shifts his shopping bag to his other hand and winces from the slight movement.

He never takes his eyes off Eve’s face for a second so I go to put a possessive hand on her arm. To my intense fury she swerves out of the way. Oh boy, she is definitely getting punished hard for that. I see him clock the gesture. A slight frown appears on his face as his eyes travel upwards to fix on mine. Bam. I recognize him immediately but not a muscle in my face betrays my shock. I could pick out those eyes from fifty yards away.

This should be interesting.

He’s about ten meters out now and closing in fast. My gaze shifts to Joseph who is reaching underneath his shirt already. I shake my head. No bloodshed in this neighborhood. Not in front of Eve. I’m just going to have to front this out.

“Please, Dante,” I hear her whisper. There’s no playfulness in her voice anymore. She sounds scared, panicked. Conflicted. Her two worlds are colliding in the worst possible way. “Don’t hurt him. I’ll buy whatever damn dress you want. Promise me. You have to promise me.”

I say nothing. I can’t give her any assurances right now. If this all goes south then there’s only one outcome.

“Evie, what an unexpected pleasure!” her father declares, his face splitting in two as he throws his good arm around her shoulders, forcing me to take a step back from this intrusion into my personal space and from my property. “That’s an interesting outfit you’re wearing, honey. I’m not even gonna try and understand fashion these days. Are you and Manuel still on for dinner tomorrow night? I’m planning my world-famous rib surprise. Your mom’s already griping about the washing-up so I thought I’d buy her a little something to sweeten the deal.” He chuckles at his own bad humour and rattles the small black Gucci bag in his hand.

Manuel and Eve on a happy family dinner date? This day just keeps on getting better and better. Perhaps I need to break the other side of my young recruit’s jaw to remind him about his boundaries.

“Thanks Dad, sounds great,” Eve gasps, disentangling herself awkwardly.

Myers gaze shifts to me next and I watch him take in my olive skin, dark hair, expensive car, clothes and bodyguards. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says, the smile freezing on his lips, his voice notably cooler, but he extends his hand to me anyway. The man has manners and I respect that. “Robert Myers.”

“Sebastian Días,” I say, taking his hand, giving nothing away. Not betraying for a single moment that a couple of months ago I had my gun pointing at his head and I chose to abduct his daughter instead; that five years ago I drove his only son to suicide; that I’m currently enemy #1 for his beloved DEA. This guy would tear me apart with his bare hands if he knew the half of it.

Eve’s fear is palpable. I can almost taste it. Her eyes keep darting back and forth between us. Joseph hasn’t moved, he’s still standing by the open car door, ready to attack if required. I know Tomas is too. He’s shifted to the driver’s seat, his hand on the ignition. If we need to get out of here fast then he’s the man to make it happen.

“So how do you two know each other?” he asks, smiling at his daughter again, blissfully unaware of the cataclysmic fall-out awaiting him if he so much as breathes on me the wrong way.

“We have a mutual work colleague in common,” I answer smoothly. “Or should that be former work colleague.”

The flash of annoyance on his face tells me exactly how he feels about his only daughter quitting her job.

“Don’t start dad,” she says quietly, catching sight of it too.

“I will start, Evie,” he says, his expression darkening again. “You’re a damn fine writer. Your articles were doing the work of ten of my agents.”

Eve shakes her head and stares at the pavement.

“Something’s going down, baby, the Santiago’s are on the ropes,” he continues gently, oblivious of the sharp temperature drop. “It’s only a matter of time before we track them down. You had ‘em running scared in the first place.”

There’s an awkward silence and then he seems to pull himself together. “Forgive me, Mr. Días,” he says turning back to me. “I’m a little too proud of my daughter sometimes. Have you kids of your own?”

There’s a pause before I shake my head. “No I don’t.”

Myers shrugs. “Well, perhaps one day you’ll understand. Anyway baby I’ll see you and Manuel tomorrow.” He leans over to peck Eve on the cheek. “It was good meeting you, Mr. Días,” he adds but I know he’s lying through his teeth. He’s getting a bad vibe off me like he should.

I watch him re-cross the street and climb into his car. A minute later he’s pulling away from the curb and waving briefly at us as he passes. Meanwhile Eve and I are standing there in the middle of the most awkward fucking silence imaginable. In truth I have no idea what to say.

“Dante.” My head snaps in Joseph’s direction. “Time to go.”

He’s right. We need to keep moving. Towards the next kill, the next country, the next drama… I feel shattered suddenly. For a moment I imagine what it must have felt like to have a father like Myers growing up, someone to laud my achievements instead of beating the shit out of me for not killing quick enough. For being too slow on the trigger. But these kinds of thoughts will always be pointless. There’s no room for them in my life. I was born bad. The end result was always going to justify the means.

“Shopping time’s over,” I announce grimly, wrenching the door open for Eve. She glides into the car without looking at me and I follow after, trying to keep my temper in check as she positions herself as far away from me as possible.

“Update from my team,” Tomas says, passing me my iPad. “They think your brother’s heading south to Salamina. Either that or he’s still seeking refuge in Cartagena.”

I take the iPad and skim the details but I find myself glancing at Eve’s profile more, taking in those soft pouty lips and her sweet upturned nose. Her hair was still wet from the shower when we left my house so she twisted it up into some kind of messy bun. I want to rip out the grips and run my fingers through her long dark strands, re-forging our connection and binding her back to me. She won’t stop gazing out of the damn window.

Passing the iPad back to Tomas, I try to take her hand but she wrenches it away from my grasp. I clench my jaw and chalk it up as another fucking disobedience. This was meant to be a fun outing but it’s turned into a juxtaposition of hell. I know how her mind works. She’s sitting there totting up all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together. There are too many ‘against’, and only one ‘for’, and I intend to remind her of this over and over for the rest of the afternoon.