“You asked a great question,” Scarlet turns to Kallie, giving her a small smile before facing back to the camera. “Raul Alverez’s empire is built on the same ideologies and principles that you’ve heard many times in your line of work. Rule heavy. Snitches are made examples of. Insolence is punishable by death, and lastly, we’re a family. It’s blood in and blood out. Fathers hand down their empires to sons. In my case, my father didn’t have a son, only me. I made my first kill when I was fifteen. The man I killed had apparently come to my father and requested to buy me. I don’t know if the money was too little or way more than he expected, but it was then that my life changed. He saw a way to benefit from having a daughter that was more than just a business marriage. I was brought to an empty building and handed a gun and told to kill the man on the floor in front of me. He was married, he wore a ring, so I can only imagine what he wanted to buy me for. I ended up killing him. It became a game of kill or be killed and I had no doubt in my mind my father would not have hesitated to put a bullet in me that night, had I not passed his sick version of a test.”
She shudders from the memory while I find myself tempted to lean forward in my seat, eating up the words that answer so many of the questions I have been holding onto for years.
“After that night I entered training,” she scoffs a little, “I killed again and again, learning different weapons and techniques. My father was determined to make me the most feared woman in his empire. A murderous doll. A weapon he could control. I was taught to lure in men with my looks then kill them. Always under the duress that it was them or my dog. Later on, it became them or my cousin, who is my best friend. And eventually their lives or mine. For three years, this continued while he built me up to his standard. He had unfinished business, a grudge.”
Her eyes find mine again. I suck in a breath, knowing where this is going and unsure I want to hear this. Nothing she is going to say is news to me, and yet, I can feel my rib cage tighten, and the muscles in my forearms ripple from the effort to not throw the table over and tell everyone to get the fuck out.
Her eyes darken, the brown turning to almost black, while her face becomes lax. I can see her mind drift away, back to where it all started. Worse than that, I can feel her heart calling out for mine to join it. To remember. To see things from her perspective. I know how the story ends. Nothing she says can change my mind. Nothing can erase the years of pain that followed her entering my life. Nothing.
Then…
Scarlet
“Woo! Nice shot!”
My head whips around right as Evita, my favorite cousin, steps out of her red Mustang, waving at me. I frown, as I watch her get closer and closer, noticing the designer shorts and billowy boho shirt. She looks way different than normal. I glance around her and notice no one else is with her, another oddity. Evita is never alone. My cousin is the princess of her family, and her father goes to great lengths to ensure his daughter is protected and pure until he can make a marriage pact with another powerful family. I’ve never seen her in anything except a dress and definitely nothing ever in jean material. I flip the safety on my military grade rifle and hold it at my side.
“What are you doing?” I question, taking her hug and wrapping my arms around her. Evita is supermodel gorgeous with long curly black hair and hazel eyes. Her lips are painted a rose petal pink that stands out against her tanned skin. My head hits her shoulder, while her arm wraps around mine. I envy her legs that go on for miles, making her gracefully taller than my five foot, four inches.
“What do you mean?” She leans back and pecks my cheek lightly.
My gaze swings past her again, mystified that her usual entourage of security isn’t tailing her. “That,” I say pointing to the emptiness, “This,” I pull at her shirt, as it slides off her shoulder. “Your dad would have a heart attack if he saw you in this or the naked skin on your shoulder.”
“I know!” She claps her hands in glee. “Isn’t it exciting?”
“Evi,” I say exasperated, before reaching for my water bottle.
“My mom had a talk with your dad.” She shrugs and a mischievous smile plays on her lips. “I told her how your limited social circle may hinder you from doing the job and things would probably go better if I was there too.”
My eyebrow quirks. I’m not sure how to take what she just said. “I’ve lured in all my targets without any issues.”
“Yes,” she shifts on her feet, “men who are like our fathers, power hungry and will go after a young girl. You have absolutely no experience with guys your own age. Except that one encounter with your bodyguard.”
I stiffen at the mention of Jerrett, while my body works to suppress the shudder under my skin. Jerrett had been my friend, my training partner, for a year here in Mexico. One night he was thrown into my room, bloody and bruised, and looking as if his life was over.
“What’s going on?” I ask, sitting up in bed and flicking on the lamp at my bedside, before pulling my sheet up to my chin. Mexico is hot and the building barely has air conditioning. At night, I choose to sleep in just my underwear and a camisole.
Jerrett gets to his feet, and even in the dim lighting, I can see the agony written in his facial features. “Lettie…”My name sounds so forlorn on his tongue that I sit up straighter.
“Jer?” I say his name, suddenly concerned for my friend. “What’s going on? Is this a training exercise?”
His head shakes, the black tresses hanging over his face. He walks over to my bed and sits on the edge. Our eyes meet and he places a finger over his lips, signaling me to be quiet. I clamp my lips shut and nod at him, completely trusting him, more than I’ve ever trusted anyone else. “I have to do something, Lettie. Your father…Mr. Alverez demands it happens now.”
My brows pinch together, not understanding. Jerrett’s hands grip the edge of his shirt, before pulling it off over his head. His bare chest is completely exposed, and I can see the angry red welts covering his sides. Seeing him almost naked is not new to me. Over the course of the year, Jerrett and I have sparred outside on the hottest of days and he usually doesn’t wear a shirt. He also taught me how to uncuff myself underwater and we both wore swimsuits for that.
“What…”
He shakes his head at me, his eyes conveying a message. He leans over me when his knees hit my bed, the mattress sinking under our weight, my eyes widen. For the first time, it’s starting to dawn on me what’s happening. I open my mouth to scream, to yell, anything. His hand slams over my mouth, keeping the sound smothered beneath it. My hands fly to his shoulders, the nails scrapping against his chilled skin.
“I have to Lettie.” His voice whispers next to my ear, “If it’s not me, it will be someone else. Your father doesn’t want his enemies to be able to bargain for your innocence. You’re a weapon to him only. Do you understand me?”
Tears leak out of the corners of my eyes and slide down into my hairline. My body shudders in his hold and my heart breaks inside my chest. What kind of a monster does this to his own child? His flesh and blood? In that moment, I’m thankful for Jerrett’s hand covering my mouth. It keeps the sobs trapped inside my throat. Jerrett’s gaze meets mine and I want to die when I see the pity and remorse in his.