Page 61 of Ravaged Hearts

“Don’t worry,” Jorge said soothingly while I struggled beneath him. “I promised Don Carlos I won’t fuck you until our wedding night. This will have to do until then.”

Something cold and hard slid up the inside of my thigh.Oh my God.It was the pistol.

I bucked in earnest and cried out, “No!”

Jorge pressed his weight upon me harder. He licked the column of my neck, finishing at my ear. “The more you fight, the more this will hurt. But don’t jostle too much, or my trigger finger might slip.”

Higher and higher the pistol traveled up my inner thigh. When the cold muzzle pressed against my bare opening, Ifroze. A whimper escaped my throat. Stinging tears blurred my vision.

Just get through this.Live to fight another day so you can kill Jorge, then he’ll never be able to hurt anyone again.

“Get off her,” came a harsh voice from the end of the table.

Carlos.

With my face turned away, I couldn’t see my father, but his tone sounded utterly menacing.

Jorge stilled above me, then the pistol was gone from between my legs.

“It’s okay, Don Carlos.” Jorge chuckled, not sounding remotely innocent. “We were just having some fun.”

“I said get off her. Now!” Carlos barked.

Jorge backed away, and a relieved sob escaped me. I was left to pull myself from the table. My panties were in tatters on the floor. I tugged my dress down to cover my ass. Wiping tears from my cheeks, I faced my father.

He was back. The Carlos I remembered with the calculating stare that promised brutality to anyone who crossed him. And right now, his focus was solely on Jorge. His protégé.

I had no love for my father, but by God, I’d never been so happy he was here and of sound mind. How long would his lucidity last?

“Lenita,” Carlos said without taking his eyes from Jorge. “Go to your room. I will deal with this.”

“Okay, Papi.” Gabi and I shared a brief glance before I left the courtyard on shaking legs.

27

VAUGHN

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

Parked two blocks from a building of interest, Brandon and I sat side by side in the back of our van, flying the spy drone. Not only was the quadcopter almost silent, but it had no flashing lights to give away its location in the pitch-black moonless sky.

Brandon kept his eyes on the tablet, which displayed an infrared camera feed, while his thumbs manipulated the controller. “Now that we’re able to get a look overhead, I’m thinking this is the most well-protected orphanage I’ve ever seen.”

I had a strong feeling about this place. The team had spent the afternoon scouring satellite images and other intel in the search for properties that fit Hope’s description within our redefined search radius. After putting together a short list worthy of closer inspection, we’d chosen to divide and conquer. Brandon and I had headed straight for this location as soon as it was dark enough to launch the drone undetected, while the rest of the team investigated the other potential sites.

Our location was our strongest lead yet. Satellite imageshad revealed a large estate surrounded by an outer perimeter wall capped with razor wire. Several long buildings formed a U, and other, smaller dwellings dotted the outskirts of the property. We were almost certain the small structure near the solid iron gates was a security booth.

The feature that struck us as most intriguing was the luxury home smack in the center of the property, because when Brandon had hacked into the city planning office’s server and lifted the construction drawings, we’d found some anomalies. Namely, that the central dwelling shouldn’t exist at all.

Red flag number one.

And despite the sign on the front gate declaring this development a home for children, it wasn’t registered with any governing body, nor did it have a website or phone listing.

Red flag number two.

Sage hadn’t identified the orphanage in her previous Manzanillo search, because on paper it didn’t exist. Our mistake had been assuming the compound wasneara location where children played, not that they shared the same grounds.

Brandon shook his head as he worked the drone controller. “I count fourteen—no, fifteen—guards, all carrying automatic weapons.”