Chapter 25: Chapter 25

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t try to sell me out to those backwoods hillbillies,” Luciana demanded, her voice shrill.

Manuel grimaced and rubbed his ear. Overall, he was bored with this conversation. Bored with her, the situation. Bored, bored, bored. He was done playing second fiddle. It was clear she wasn’t going to voluntarily give him his dues, so he’d decided to take them.

That’s what one did in this life, after all, take what was owed. Waiting for it to come to you was the first mistake most people made, and it was why they never got ahead. The nice guys always finished last, right? Well, Manuel wasn’t a nice guy.

“You should take care in how you speak to me,” he informed her.

They sat in her little receiving room, the place where Luciana liked to pretend she was a queen and everyone around her were her servants. After tonight, her reign was coming to a swift and decided end.

He’d tried to get the Spartans on his side, to deal with him directly, but it had clearly been the wrong time and place. No matter. He’d deal with Luciana first, and then he’d approach them again. They could cut a new deal, one that benefitted everyone.

A symbiosis of sorts.

Luciana was livid, but he didn’t care. Manuel had already decided long ago how this was going to play out. It was unavoidable, and the time was now, apparently.

Her blood red fingernails dug into the armrests of her “throne.” “You were going to sell me out to those biker trash in exchange for what, a truce? And what did you plan to do with it if they’d said yes? Shake hands and make friends? Go for beers and share a few laughs?”

“My plans are simple,” Manuel told her, keeping his voice level even though he was burning inside to lunge at her and wrap his hands around her throat. He could almost feel those fragile bones in her slender neck snapping beneath his fingers. “Get rid of you and take over the business. Once the Spartans see that my men and I are cooperative and aren’t out to tear apart their little world, but to share it, tensions will ease and business will go about as usual. They get their peaceful little world back and we get to expand our territory. No wars, no bloodshed. No cops.”

Luciana threw her head back and cackled. “You think it’s so easy. You’re a fool,” she sneered. “You think I hadn’t tried to go that route? Those men don’t answer to niceties. The only thing they respond to is violence. Tonight we met fire with fire. That’s how things will always be between our groups, and that’s something you don’t seem to comprehend. You forget, Manuel, I’ve been at this a hell of a lot longer than you have. I know how to deal with people like them…and you.”

She snapped her fingers, and the two guards posted at the door stepped forward. Manuel chuckled to himself.

Because she didn’t know what he did.

In that righteous way of hers, Luciana told her men, “Manuel’s services have expired. Get rid of him.”

Manuel’s dark eyes met that of her men. Correction, his men. He smirked, knowing the last person they would make a move on was him.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Luciana screeched. “I told you to get rid of him!”

This time, they did move, but not in the direction she expected. Rather than going after Manuel, they approached Luciana, grabbing both of her arms and lifting her from her chair. She was visibly shocked, which amused him greatly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You can’t really be that surprised,” Manuel said conversationally as he stood and withdrew the push blade he had stashed in his waistband. Fitting it between the fore and middle finger of his right hand, he rotated his wrist, the light glinting off the metal blade. “After all, mi reina, you catch more flies with honey.”

“Hijo de puta,” she spat, jerking against the hands that bound her. “How dare you turn against me, after everything I’ve done for you. I made you! You’ll regret this, mark my words!”

Stepping to her, Manuel traced her jugular with the sharp edge of the blade, watching her skin indent with rapt fascination when he applied a little pressure. “The only thing I’ll regret is not doing this sooner,” he said, and with one quick jab, the blade cut through her skin, plunging deep.

Luciana’s eyes widened as he stepped back out of the flow of blood that spurted from her throat. His men dropped their hold on her, and all three of them stepped back as she crumpled to the floor, gurgling and wheezing, desperate little sounds that he’d been dreaming about for months tickling his ears.

Manuel watched with the same dispassionate stare she’d given all of her victims as the life quickly drained out of her. She was lucky he had enough respect to do it fast, rather than dragging it out like she would have done with him.

When all that was left was an occasional twitch, Manuel slid a look to his men. Stalking off toward his room, he threw over his shoulder one simple command, “Make sure the dogs are well fed.”

He needed to change his suit, then he was going to go out for a nice dinner. Maybe a steak, bloody, paired with a robust and expensive wine. After all, tonight marked the start of new beginnings, and that was something to be celebrated.

***

Country kept getting voicemail. No matter how many times he called, she just wouldn’t pick up. So he texted, repeatedly, hoping for a response. He’d lost track of how many he’d sent, but around dawn, when he had finally given up, his phone buzzed.

Excitement warred with furry and relief as he snatched up his phone and read the text. Almost as fast, any hope he had melted away.

She wasn’t coming back.

Talia had made her choice, and until things were sorted between them, she thought they needed some time apart, time to reevaluate.

Country didn’t want any such thing. He wanted his woman by his side. That’s what she didn’t seem to understand. He was ready to commit. That’s what the whole trip they were planning was about. He was going to propose, had the ring and everything.

Sitting on the edge of their bed, he flipped open the velvet lid of the jewelry box. The two-carat cushion cut diamond winked back at him. Jaw clenching, he fought not to throw it across the room. Too little too late. He should have been more insistent. He should have done it sooner. Waiting and thinking had always been his best ally in the field…but it didn’t always work so well in real-life applications.

Case in point, Talia was miles away somewhere, and she didn’t want him anywhere near her. Distance. Give him gunshot and stab wounds every day of the week, but that one word—distance—that was what was going to kill him.

Lacking the emotional strength to lift his head, he surveyed the room they shared from beneath his lashes. Her mark was everywhere: the change dish on the dresser, the enormous vase of artificial flowers standing in the corner by the window, the hundred and one decorative pillows piled up on the bed. Even her perfume lingered in the air.

Funny how life worked out sometimes. From a man who never wanted to slow down, never wanted to be tied to another human being, he was the one sitting there wondering how he was going to survive the coming days without that other person by his side.

So while she was off getting her fresh start, he was stuck here with her ghost.