"My father won't tolerate this," I said almost in jest, the slight laugh that rumbled up from my chest almost as ridiculous as the words I'd issued.
He didn't bother turning around or acknowledging me in any way. He simply stood with his hands in front of him, his muscular body guarding the door's entrance. I'd seen the gun. I knew what he was capable of.
And he had every intention of killing anyone who crossed our path.
The doors finally opened to a beautiful lobby of what appeared to be a posh hotel. When he reached back, taking my hand, I didn't bother struggling. I knew better.
The same two men who'd been commanded to protect me were heading in our direction. Miguel remained agitated, merely pulling us out of the elevator and into the marble tiled corridor. Waiting.
Planning.
I could almost see the wheels in his mind spinning, plotting an attack on the perpetrator.
"Sorry, boss. She got away from us." The tallest man was also the most muscular, his arms covered in tattoos. He had a sheepish look on his face, as if their actions would be cause for retribution.
"We are going to talk about this later. Failure I will not tolerate," Miguel said in an offhanded manner, although I heard the tinge of anger laced through the dark tone.
The other soldier darted a look in both directions, clearing his throat before he spoke. "They got away."
Miguel inhaled, his body tensing. "Any information that might be useful?"
"A dark SUV, tinted windows. I got a partial on the license plate," the first soldier stated, looking even more uncomfortable.
"Trust me, the plate is stolen," Miguel huffed. "But I am well aware of who is responsible." He gave me a sideways glance before pulling one of his men to the side, whispering.
No doubt instructions were being issued.
I was still shaken, unable to calm my breathing. Could what Miguel said be true? I refused to believe it.
Another full minute passed by before he took slow steps in my direction. I'd never seen his eyes so cold, so dangerous.
"Cordero, I need my car. Make certain the others know what happened and give them a description of the vehicle as well as what you could see of the two assailants. You're going to follow us to my penthouse where you will remain on duty all night. Is that clear?" Miguel stated in his usual demanding tone.
The two soldiers nodded. Miguel's command was even more powerful than I originally thought.
"We will be in the bar. I doubt the asshole will try again so soon." Miguel tossed the keys toward the one called Cordero. "Give us fifteen minutes."
"Yes, boss." Cordero nodded, glancing in the direction of the other soldier. "You remain here."
"You got it." The second soldier scanned the perimeter as he remained close.
Cordero finally backed away, taking long strides toward the revolving door.
Miguel took another deep breath before shifting his attention entirely toward me. Once again, he was within inches away and when he spoke, chills ran down my spine. "We are going to have a single drink and we will talk. I want to know every scrap of information you have on your father's business and his enemies."
I opened my mouth, hissing before pursing my lips.
He slipped his hand around the back of my neck, his grip firmer than before. "Don't fuck with me, Valencia. Your father has already attempted to destroy a portion of my business as well as allowing his enemies access to his only daughter. This kind of shit isn't going to happen again. You're in my territory now. You follow my rules. There is no question and there is no room for error."
"Who were the men who tried to kill me?"
"That's exactly what you're going to tell me."
"Fine. Okay." I could tell with certainty that he had a gut feeling about the identities of the assassins.
He growled in his usual dominating fashion and brushed his hand down the length of my arm, intertwining our fingers together.
I was required to lean on him, trying my best not to hobble, the brute of a man following closely behind. I couldn't help but scan the dozens of people roaming the expansive lobby. Were they killers? Were they determined to end my life? The thoughts were volatile, yet another reminder that my life meant little or nothing in the world of the mafia. The bar was crowded, the sounds almost overwhelming. I'd never felt so small, so useless. I was in a country that I knew little about, questions regarding my father and his reason for even bringing me here in the forefront of my mind. There was no one I could trust.
Including myself.
Miguel planted me on a barstool in the corner of the room with my back to the wall. The location allowed him full view of anyone coming and going. He remained standing, leaning over the bar for only three seconds before the bartender approached. I could see obvious recognition, only a few words exchanged.
"The usual plus a bucket of ice and a cloth." Miguel exhaled, darting another series of angry glares throughout the bar before finally easing onto the plush leather seat. At first, he didn't bother turning in my direction, merely taking a moment to unbutton his jacket.
I huddled in the shadows, my eyes darting constantly in all directions. Yes, the men in the SUV had terrified me, shoving me into the various moments of darkness I'd experienced the majority of my life, except for the last few years. The last time an assassination attempt had occurred was on my twenty-first birthday, the festive event held at one of my favorite restaurants.
While my father had taken great pains in making certain the entire space was ours only for the night, his monstrous soldiers positioned everywhere, somehow an uninvited guest had nearly turned the festivities into a tragedy.
One dead. Several injured.
So much bloodshed.
My father screaming retaliation.
I'd heard days later that my father had rounded up at least two dozen individuals, interrogating as well as brutalizing them in methods that churned in my stomach. Even years later, I was unable to comprehend the horrors the various men had faced. And the assassin had never been located.