Chapter 5

Something woke her up. Vee knew better than to question her instincts, they were honed to perfection. She took immediate action, rolling across her bed, one hand reaching for her phone and the other for her revolver. She wasted a few precious seconds to shock when both hands came up empty. Someone had searched the bed while she was asleep in it and had taken both items.

Fuck.

Somehow, someone had managed to bypass her bodyguards and her security to make it into her bedroom. She knew exactly who was capable of such a deed. And she was pretty sure if he was finally here, that he'd decided it was her time to die.

"I won't go down easy," she said into the darkness, pleased to note that she managed to keep her voice as coolly steady as always. No point turning into a snivelling coward now. She'd faced worse and kept her shit together. She remained frozen, kneeling on her bed, listening.

His sinister chuckle seemed to echo through the room. She couldn't tell over her own terror and the pounding of her heart where exactly he was standing. She had no gun, no way to defend herself if he attacked. A click startled her, and lamplight filled the room blinding her for a few precious seconds. Still, she moved her head to the side expecting to see his tall shadowed form standing next to the lamp.

"Wouldn't be much fun if you didn't put up a fight," he said from the end of the bed.

How the fuck had he gotten there so fast?

Vee's head swiveled toward his voice and she blinked a few times until she could see him properly. That voice never failed to send shivers skittering down her spine. The clipped British accent told her he'd either gone to boarding school in England or been tutored by a Brit. Not the standard for Spanish speakers below the border unless they came from money.

He stood a few feet from her, his gaze fixed on her. Every dark hair on his head was perfectly in place, silver touching his temples and sideburns. He was dressed impeccably, expensive suit, fitted perfectly to his tall, muscular frame. He'd taken the jacket off though, removed the tie and rolled the sleeves up. Not a good sign when the Gentleman Butcher made himself more comfortable.

She lifted her gaze to meet his. She was shocked by the warmth in his expression. Was he toying with her? Where was his death mask, his impassivity? Who looked so fucking friendly just before they destroyed someone. She expected her executioner's face to reflect something a little closer to death or emotionlessness at the very least. Instead his dark brown eyes almost glowed from beneath lowered eyebrows as they took in her dishevelled appearance. She'd been so tired from trying and failing to bring the dockyard back under her control that she'd stripped out of her clothes and pulled on her satin pyjama top over a pair of panties and fallen into bed. A few buttons had come undone while she was sleeping and the top now slid down one shoulder.

Damn, she hated being anything less than professional. And her hair must be a complete mess. She hadn't even washed yesterday's makeup from her face. Mascara would be smudged beneath her lids, giving her a raccoon-like appearance. She heaved an annoyed sigh and shoved a hand though her hair, upending her bangs. "Can we please get on with this execution? At least then I'll be able to get a little sleep."

His lips pressed into a flat line and his nostrils flared a little, clearly unamused by her flippancy. Well score one for the dead girl breathing, she thought, expecting to feel the sharp edge of his blade at any moment.

"I didn't come here to take your life," he said, the edge to his voice letting her know that she needed to tread carefully lest he change his mind.

"Why are you here then?" She tried to freeze him out with her tone as she pulled at her pyjama top in an attempt to cover more skin. His eyes tracked the movement. She shivered as though he'd actually touched her, then dropped her hand.

"I brought gifts." He bent to retrieve something. She tensed, ready to roll off the bed and flee. Not that she would make it far, but she was certainly going to try if he did anything she deemed even slightly murdery. Instead, he straightened and set two boxes on the bed in front of her kneeling form. One was bigger, about the size of her pillow and the other much smaller, the size of the palm of her hand. "Open the larger one first."

Hands shaking, she reached for the larger box, pulling it toward her. It was a perfectly square, white box wrapped with a red ribbon. It was heavy, heavier than she expected and something inside rustled when she moved it. She glanced up. Sotza's expression had gone flat, empty, dead. Whatever was in this box was business.

Heart pounding, Vee tensed her body, knowing she wasn't going to like his 'gift' but with no other choice she pulled the ribbon. The bow unravelled under her trembling fingers, falling easily away. Vee stared into Sotza's eyes as she lifted the lid. His eyes lit with feral satisfaction as the smell of death was released from the box. Her nose automatically wrinkled at the foul odor and she forced herself to look down.

She'd known what was in the box before she opened it. If the prick was expecting her to break into hysterics and cower, he was about to be sadly disappointed. She remained perfectly motionless except to tap one long coral-tipped fingernail against the edge of the box as she forced herself to look at the grisly contents. After a long moment, when she thought an appropriate amount of time had passed, she lifted her chin and gave Sotza an impertinent stare, arching her eyebrow.

"Oh dear," she said in her chilliest voice. "It appears I'll have to find a new contact at the dockyard."

She glanced back down at Luis' severed head, nestled in a cocoon of bloody plastic, his sightless cloudy eyes staring at nothing. "Pity," she continued. "I despised his weakness but enjoyed the benefits of having someone on the inside."

Sotza chuckled, amused by her studied indifference as she replaced the lid on her 'gift' and set the package aside. She eyed him wondering if he'd done the deed himself. Then she decided he had. He'd delivered the package personally, a message to let her know that her interference in the city he was systematically taking over would not be tolerated. He'd somehow found out about her meeting with Luis that morning and intercepted the man, perhaps thinking she needed a lesson in understanding that his nickname of Butcher was well deserved in case anyone had doubts.

"Open the other package," he said, his deep voice becoming a caress.

She looked up at him sharply, noting the intimacy. Not something she was expecting and definitely not something she was used to hearing. Men had become her subordinates, not her equal and definitely not her lover or master.

She reached for the box. It was also perfectly square, though much smaller than the other. Shaped exactly like the other box with a tiny pink ribbon wrapped around it. She was relieved that the ribbon wasn't red like the box containing Luis' head. Using the tips of her fingernails she pulled at the edge of the ribbon until it came apart in her hands. She pulled the lid off the box. Inside was another box, a jeweler's box. Was it a severed finger?

Frowning, she glanced up at Sotza who was watching her with a new intensity. The light from her lamp cast his face into angles, caressing his high, sharp cheekbones and sculpted lips. Sotza was an extremely elegant, handsome man, but only in the same way one might consider Lucifer good-looking. He was also the most terrifying, chilling man she'd ever had the misfortune to meet.

"Open it," he demanded, his voice holding an edge of impatience, telling her she had no choice.

Vee had no idea what to expect, but his countenance, his very presence in her bedroom told her that whatever was in this box would alter the course of her life. However short that life may be. She pried open the lid and dropped her gaze. Icy denial rushed through her, crashing into heart-stopping reason. She knew what this was… yet it couldn't be possible.

She pulled the stunning engagement ring from the box and held it up, her eyebrows disappearing into her bangs. She knew enough about jewelry to know that this was top of the line, worth probably close to a half million dollars. A light pink diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds set in a white gold band. Her heart thumped a crazy rhythm as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

Far from murdering her in her bed, Sotza was… proposing to her? No, that wasn't right. The Butcher wasn't the type of man to ask anyone anything. He took what he wanted, just as he was taking Miami. But Vee wasn't free for the taking. She would never marry again, never again be under the control of another human being.

She stared at him in dismay, a frown creasing her forehead, the ring held out in her fingertips like it was poison. "What does this mean?" she asked hoarsely.

"I'm declaring my intentions," he said, the intimacy in his tone unmistakable now, despite the old-world language he used.

"No!" she said immediately. "You can't."

He stepped up to the bed and reached for her. If Vee had the wits left in her head for self-preservation she would have fled. But shock held her rooted to the bed. He took her wrist in a firm hold, his long, warm fingers banding around her, holding her still while he took the ring from her. He flipped her hand over and pushed the ring onto the third finger. It was a perfect fit. Of course.

With a gasp she tried to tug her hand away, but he held her firm, the steel in his hold translating to his face, turning their encounter into something much deadlier. She stopped struggling, holding perfectly still. He dominated her with that single touch, his tall body leaning over hers, folded on the bed. She tried to lean away but he followed her, catching the back of her head with his other hand and forcing her to remain in his grip. She could feel the strength running through his solid body, though he touched her only with his hands.

He leaned until his face hovered over hers and she could see the gold flecks in the dark brown depths of his eyes. She shivered under the sinister onslaught of The Butcher's perusal. His voice vibrated with authority when he spoke. "This ring does not come off. You understand?"

Vee stared back, her blue eyes icy as the arctic. She refused to speak. Refused to acknowledge his edict. His fingers clenched in the back of her hair, catching the fine strands and tugging. He dropped his lips to hers, startling her with a quick, hard kiss. It was just the press of his closed mouth against hers, opened slightly in a gasp of surprise. It shouldn't have been erotic, yet somehow, it sent lightning bolts zinging through her body sparking an awareness she hadn't felt in years. Perhaps never. Her eyes flew open before he pulled away. His gaze met hers and she saw satisfaction burning there.

He spoke barely an inch away from her mouth, his warm breath marking her. "Take that ring off and there will be consequences, Vee."

He released her, allowing her to collapse back onto the bed. She landed palms down on all fours. She knew the position looked sexual, that he could see her underwear; caught the flash of lustful heat in his gaze before he shuttered it. He scooped up the larger of the boxes and headed out the bedroom door. Vee scrambled off the bed and followed him.

She was extremely conscious of her bare legs but wanted to keep eyes on her deadly intruder at all times. He set the box down on her kitchen island and turned back to her, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe in one heated glance. She shivered and crossed her arms. Then uncrossed them, aware that the hem off her nightshirt rode up the edge of her thighs when she did that.

"I'll be in touch," he told her and left through the front door of her condo, resetting her alarm system. Vee gaped after him. Belatedly, she wondered what the hell had happened to her bodyguards? She hoped they weren't dead.

God, what had she done to deserve this? Comeuppance perhaps for murdering her first husband without a shred of remorse. Now she would be forced into the company of the devil himself?

And what the fuck was wrong with Sotza anyway? Who decided they wanted to get married after a single meeting? To the woman he's supposed to dispose of. The whole concept was bizarre and crazy. But she knew enough about the man that he would be determined once he set a course of action. If he wanted Vee to become his wife, he would do everything in his power to make it happen.

And she was going to do anything and everything she could to get herself out of this sham of an engagement and reclaim her city. Perhaps if he imagined himself in love, or something equally ridiculous, she could eventually get close enough to kill him.

Looking down at the ring that adorned her left hand, Vee did the one thing she knew would declare all-out war with the terrifying man who had just staked his claim on her. She slid the ring off her finger and placed it deliberately on the counter, then turned and stomped back to bed. She would deal with Luis, or what was left of him, and the ring and in the morning.