Page 28 of Forbidden Eyes
“You get one glimpse. One, Fia. You keep your mouth closed and stay close. Yes? After this, no more.”
She nods and looks around the dirty streets, taking it all in. I bet she’s never been to a place like this in her whole goddamn life. I flick my eyes over her clothes, wondering what the hell I’m doing. I’m thinking with my dick is what I’m doing. I should cut the damn thing off. “And make yourself look like you’re supposed to be with me. No fidgeting.”
“Okay.”
We pull up to the back of the old brickworks, and I cut the engine and look at her. She smiles, face excited and wide eyed. “Replace that look with one your father would wear.” It’s fucking instant. A scowl descends, narrowed eyes that look all Vico and damn near as threatening. Good. Perhaps if she keeps it there, I can imagine him slitting my throat, and then I won’t keep thinking with my dick. “Better.”
She giggles, brightening the look instantly.
I’m in so much fucking trouble.
“Head up. Focused. Keep it zipped.”
The walk to the doors has me blocking her view of everything, wanting to keep her tucked in behind me where she’ll be safe. One of the guards opens the way inward for us, giving me a nod without acknowledging her, and then Pierre comes into view. He holds out the shipment rota for me, a glare coming from whatever fucking problem he’s got going on.
“You said three tonnes, Carter. We’ve only cut up two and a half. Where’s the rest? That’s short. And I’m not getting caught up in the middle of Vico’s shit with my father without you signing it off at the Cane end first.”
Great first fucking line.
I look along the run of tables, hoping to hell she doesn’t say something stupid, and watch as the packages get bundled into the delivery drums. A guy sifts the flour and grain over them, concealing the product. My eyes flit over the rest of the team. Nineteen women still here, all of them wearing masks and little clothing. They all seem clean that I can see, nothing unusual. Three guys guard the routes in and out, one behind us on the door. I eventually look back at the dick waving a rota in my face, and I find him staring behind me.
“Who’s this?” he asks.
“None of your business. Where’s the other half tonne?”
“The fuck would I know? This is the delivery we were sent.” He starts walking off, flicking pages and talking me through the logistics of the route here. “Unless it’s been offloaded before arriving here and shipped out elsewhere.”
Not that I know of. And I know everything about this deal. Have done for weeks. “Vico’s team might have siphoned some …”
“What has my father got to do with this?” Holy shit. My body swings to look at her, hand poised to slap her mouth closed again. “Carter?”
Pierre stops and turns to look at her, eyes like he’s about to take something far more valuable than drugs. This might be a run for Vico, but this cartel is anything but friendly when it comes to making money. Pierre’s father is renowned for taking anything worthy of a trade. This princess is worth a fortune.
“You take that look off your goddamn face before I take it off for you,” I snarl, easing my jacket open and blocking her from view. He whistles, and three guards start making their way over, guns being pulled. “Be fucking careful with that thought, Chelico,” I say, pulling her tight in behind me. “One wrong fucking move and this whole deal will blow up in your face. You want Vico or Cane offside?”
She gasps slightly at the grip my hand has on her hip to keep her in place. Good. She deserves a bit of pain for that stupid ass comment. Perhaps she'll keep her fucking mouth closed now and leave this to me to handle. Because one thing Cane doesn’t do is run, no matter the fucking situation I’ve just put us in.
Eight
With so many men’s eyes trained on me, my skin starts to crawl. If I could tuck myself behind Carter any further, I would. Fear snakes through my veins, and for the first time I wish I hadn’t been curious. If I could just have lived with the questions about what my father did and what he and my uncle built their empire on, then we wouldn't be here now.
The repercussions of my comment start to grow in my mind as the situation shifts, and I mentally kick myself. Carter told me to stay quiet, but what he was saying—the implications of the conversation—sent all his instruction from my mind. What I thought would be a look into the real life my uncle and father lead has turned into an ugly truth I can’t ignore. How could my father sink to this level? He’s the most powerful man I know. He owns New York and classes politicians and senators amongst friends. That doesn’t equate to the piles of drugs being bagged up by nearly naked women in front of me.
My hand shifts to wrap around Carter's arm and his muscles flex in my touch. He stands rigid and fixed on the men who are now surrounding us.
My human shield.
My heart aches. The tiny pieces that splintered on seeing how my father made money, now crush into my chest as it pounds harder and harder.
“Chelico, back the fuck up.”
Carter rips his arm from my hold and grabs the gun he’s been carrying. He swings his arm and aims it directly at the guy who’s been raving about the deal.
“I thought you were smart, Carter. Bringing Vico’s daughter to a deal?”
“Get your head back on the deal. Don't piss me off, Pierre.”
The man whistles again, and my eyes dart to the side where two other men advance on us. “Carter!” I pull on his arm to bring his attention to them. I might be comfortable stopping a guy in a bar putting his sleazy hands on me, but defending myself against guys with guns?