Page 8 of Temptation: Discreet
It’s almost like she expected me though, and even if she physically can’t see me, it’s like our first date has officially started.
She stands there for a while longer, going back and forth between staring at the light reflecting off of the pool and the tree line. I’m practically holding my breath until she puts out the cigarette and sashays her perfect peach ass back inside her room, closing the door behind her. A few moments later, the room goes dark as she gets in bed.
I’ll be in front of her soon. Our first official meeting is tomorrow before we fully start our little partnership with the Cartel.
She’ll know soon just how mine she is.
Goodnight Princess.
Chapter 6
My fathers hand tightens around my arm. It’s ten in the morning, but his eyes are bloodshot like he hasn’t slept in days, and his breath smells like he just got out of a distillery. He must be just arriving back at the house, back from a bender I would assume. Biting down on my bottom lip as the tears begin to form in my eyes, I pull my arm trying to escape his grasp. His grip tightens before pushing me away into the kitchen island.
Seeing me before my brothers probably set him off like it always does. But my brothers are in his office discussing the travel plans to Vegas to meet with my future husband, and for me to meet my new security team. All I know is that Julian trusts them, and that I trust my brother to end this alliance from hell before the wedding. The jog that I did this morning after I woke up did absolutely nothing to calm my nerves for meeting the men that will be now stationed outside my home for the foreseeable future.
This is the first time my father has ever laid his hands on me. Today is the first time I’ve truly been afraid of my father. I know he wants me to put up a fight and defend myself, but I’m afraid. Afraid of how he will retaliate not just to me, but to everyone else too. If I were to say the wrong word, move in a way he didn’t like, I’m sure he would just explode and we would see the monster he really has become. I once hoped that the man that I grew up knowing was still inside him somewhere, but now I know that it’s not possible.
I haven’t even said a word to him since the day he declared my marriage. Other than that day, I’ve rarely said a word to him in years since he likes to try to blame me for mothers death. Every time he tries to bring it up, he spits hateful words at me and I just stay silent, hiding my emotions because I refuse to let him see me break down. I know that if I ever were to start crying in front of him, he’d just use that against me too. But the longer I stay silent, the angrier he becomes.
“You’re the reason she’s gone!” he yells. “This family would still be whole if it wasn’t for you!”
His words echo in my mind as I pry myself away from the kitchen island, just as father starts to laugh at my clumsy attempt to get away. Clearing his throat he calls for my brothers to meet him in the living room loud enough that the sound of his raspy voice echoes through the house. He adjusts his suit as best he can and then he walks down the hall.
It takes me a moment before walking around the island to follow his path, staying to the right of the hall, the plain white walls feel like they’re caving in with each step I take towards my family. It’s as though they slowly move, trapping me inside a box of my own personal hell. The black leather couch sits on one side of the room with a black stained coffee table in the center. The decor around the entirety of our home is completely dull, and bare of any happy family memories. All the pictures of our mother were removed, and if I hadn’t had some similarities to her, I would barely remember what she looks like. It's a preference my brothers have honored since we’ve lived here on our own, just in case father decided to visit.
My brothers enter the living room a few seconds later. Father is sitting on the dark leather couch leaning back, still wearing his black suit from yesterday. His fingers tap roughly against the arm rest until my brothers enter the room and they each take their seat in the chairs surrounding him.
“Marcelo, you will oversee the decisions with the new security team. Keep your sister on a tight leash. I’m heading back to Mexico; I have a few meetings set up with contacts to expand the business to Europe,” he slurs.
My brothers all nod in unison and stand as father gets up then goes through the line giving them each a hug before walking towards me.
“Adios, mija.” He whispers while he presses his lips to my forehead. I flinch as his hand comes up to my chin gripping with the same amount of force as he did when he held my arm. “Behave Catalina.”
As he speaks, panic spreads through my body. I stare at the floor unable to look into the hatred in his eyes. Father releases me, and disappears through the front door of our home with his guards surrounding him. My brothers sit back down as soon as he’s gone. They always wait to do as they please when father is no longer in the room. It's a form of respect that has been brought up in my family.
We all sit in silence, my hand automatically going up to my arm to rub the fresh bruises from father’s hold. I keep my eyes glued to the floor as if I were waiting for a portal to another dimension to appear. Another world where we weren’t a part of the cartel, where mother was alive and father was still… father.
Julian wraps his arm around me allowing me a moment to feel safe, and at least for one small moment, I know that he is on my side. “Enzo will be here soon. Marcelo is allowing me to oversee the decision of his team against father’s wishes. Don’t worry about anything,” he whispers.
I nod, straightening my back and gathering the strength I need to face my new security team so I can start planning my escape route once I learn more about my new guards. I desperately need a night out.
Consequences be damned.
The doorbell rings and a knock follows a few seconds later. Julian moves from where we sit, turning his head and glancing at me once more. He flings the white wooden door open in one movement, causing the door to hit the wall behind it.
A faint flush tinges my cheeks the moment my eyes lock with dark brown eyes flecked with gold around the irises, like lightning in a storm black sky. The faint stubble on his face defines his jawline and the tattoos leading up to it. His undercut hairstyle is buzzed on the sides, with the top long, and pushed back. He has a dark suit similar to the ones my brother wears except he doesn’t wear a tie like Julian does. The back of his hands are covered in black ink that spread up to his wrists, teasing the designs hidden underneath the sleeves of his dress shirt. The way his hard muscles strain against his shirt is a detail that makes it difficult to look away. He looks like the kind of man that you wouldn’t take home to your family. The type of man that screams danger, control and power, and will have you begging for mercy.
His lips curl slowly into a smile, bringing my attention back to his face. I swear time slowed the moment he stepped inside. His eyes roam down my body and back up, similar to the way mine did to him the moment he walked in. My face heats in embarrassment as I turn my looking for an exit that I know isn't there. I didn’t even notice the other two men by his side, one of them dirty blonde and the other with dark brown hair.
“Enzo,” Julian barked, his hand extends waiting for the greeting of his former friend.
Enzo places his hand in Julian’s. One by one they each greet each other. The blonde one takes my hand, brings it to his lips, and presses a light kiss on the back causing me to blush at the gesture.
“I’m Kai, and the brute behind me is Rocco,” he grins, glancing back towards Enzo. His eyes fixated on where Kai has my hand in place, as if he were trying to burn holes where we connected. Kai winks and moves further inside towards where my brothers await in our dining room.
“Enzo,” he says secretively, his words soft so that I’m the only one to hear the low gravelly sound of his voice.
“Catalina,” I squeal, my own voice shaking with nerves at his proximity. He presses a kiss on my cheek, and then the other. He smells woodsy like an oak tree after the first rainfall of the day, and it’s a smell I’d definitely like to get lost in.