The relentless thwack-thwack-thwack of the helicopter’s blades transformed into a soothing drone. Zachary scratched the fur behind Lady’s ear, careful not to disturb Eleodora. She’d slipped down and now lay with her head nestled in his lap, hands under her cheek like a child.

He stroked her hair, tucking a stray strand behind her ear before gazing out of the helicopter’s porthole. Guadalupe spread below them, its rural areas lit by silvery moonlight. But the magnificent view couldn’t keep his gaze. It kept returning to the docile creature curled up on the seat beside him. Eleodora slept soundly, her body finally having caved in to the sedative he’d injected her with.

He was glad she’d wanted to leave the farmhouse; he couldn’t stand the stink of the place anymore. It was disappointing, realizing after all this time that the people he’d hired had all been so useless at their jobs.

They wouldn’t be disappointing any future employers. He’d seen to that, at least.

He drank in the sight of Eleodora; her flawless skin, her glossy dark hair, the plumpness of her lips. Curled up like this, she was a small thing. A little curvier than the girl with the pink toenails—it had been difficult to get the blouse to close around her breasts—but perhaps she could stand to lose a few pounds.

He preferred his women slender, with pronounced spines and ribs. Always had.

Toying with a piece of the girl’s hair, he glanced at Lady. The dog gazed up at him, those soulfull eyes demanding answers.

“He wouldn’t have made the trip,” Zachary said, fully aware that the dog wouldn’t be able to hear him over the sound of the helicopter’s blades. “It was a kindness.”

Lady had to know how much it had pained him to cave in Blue’s head with that rock. The dog had been his companion, his friend. But the staff had forgotten to feed him. Had never bathed him. And the result had been a skinny, diseased animal ripe with fleas and tics.

Even Lady was in desperate need of a bath. He blinked hard, focusing on the dog’s eyes. Why was her nose so dry? Her eyes so cloudy?

Lady whimpered, and he realized he’d grabbed the scruff of her neck too hard. He hastily released his grip and soothed her with a long stroke to her neck.

He had to stop relying on others to do his work. That had been his mistake with Ailin and Rodriguez. He’d grown to trust them. To like them. He’d considered them his friends.

So when this bitch that lay sleeping with the innocence of a fucking child had brought about their deaths…

He’d been incapable of looking after himself.

But no more.

Zachary wound a strip of Elle’s hair around his finger.

Tighter.

Tighter.

The girl shifted in her sleep, but the pain wasn’t enough to rouse her.

Strangely, he hadn’t thought about the cartel in over a week. Not the deal Javier had struck with him, not the contacts he’d so easily acquired.

That had been his old self. His greedy self.

He’d come to appreciate the finer things in life. Hearty food. Obedient companions. The odd glass of wine before bed.

Little Elle would make the perfect companion. For now, anyway, and as long as she didn’t make too much noise like Marco. Marco who’d kept yelling and crying.

Zachary touched his thumb against the corner of Elle’s mouth. He parted her lips, touching her teeth. Her jaw was slack with sleep; he could easily slip his thumb deeper inside her mouth.

He caressed her tongue.

If not…He had a way to deal with noisy pets.