The Sweetest Kill (Morales' Cartel #1)

|5|

//Song - I am a wanted man by Royal deluxe.

"You got one fucking job and you blew it." Hunter shoved the man on the wall and yanked the lapel of his suit.

"What do you want me to do? I already informed you about the interrogation and thanks to you that bastard Diego is suspecting me." A coil of frustration wired Hunter and he snapped.

"I. Don't. Care. Shove the gun in his ass if he doesn't budge. But I don't want police sniffing at us." The icy glare of his coal-black eyes sweated the man.

"Mirar, Hunter, he is a newly appointed special agent in charge. You know how pathetically patriotic they get in the starting. Wait for a bit his passion will boil down soon."

Pulling the lapel more closer, Hunter muttered through his gritted teeth, "We don't pay you to wait for people like Diego to become idiots like you. The security at the border and coast is becoming fucking tight every day y me está molestando!"

"I am merely an assistant special agent in-" the sweat on his forehead dripped more furiously and he gulped.

"Next time you will be nothing." Pushing him away Hunter took out the pistol and hoisted it under his chin, "I will tell you a fact if the shoot is from the wrong angle, no amount of surgery will fix your face. And you know that, don't you?"

His eyes widened and he started panting, "I-I will see what I can do. But you need to be careful too. Three men died recently and all were either witness or were ready to speak."

"That's why they died. Now, don't disappoint me, si?" Patting his cheek, Hunter dismissed the man away.

"You put a good show better than any soap opera I used to watch." Turning around Hunter saw Margarita painting her toenails and his nostrils instantly flared.

He tucked the pistol in the waistline of his jeans and decided to ignore her, the dingy smell of the warehouse and the scent of cocaine stored already irked his thinned patience.

"The platinum doll is in her room her husband had asked to guard her. Watch her till she stays." Her black hair shone under the yellow light and the coffee-coloured skin which still didn't look much older, glowed.

An abrupt image of silver-blonde, grey eyes, full red lips, and petite body flashed under his eyes followed by an expression of disgust and horror plastered on her doll like brow when she had looked at his face, and he exploded, "I am not her babysitter. Ask his men to do it."

Margarita kept the black-coloured bottle on the table and inspected her nails, "Mateo is taking them to the club and her husband is going too. A part of a peace treaty, you know."

Hunter's eyes widened and he felt a violent blow in his gut, "Nobody is touching Isobel."

Her dark eyes danced in humour and her lips pulled in a smirk, "And the wild beast is back. My friends enjoyed you that night, ¿Recuerdas? The rougher you are the wetter they get."

A hot foam of outrage seethed in his blood and the vein in his temple burst, "No one is touching her."

She didn't even stir at his explosion, instead, she threw back her head and laughed, "Seeing you all worked up gives me my biggest high," wiping a tear from her eyes, she added in the same air, Hunter had threatened the man, "no one will. Watch that doll, si?"

Three more days.

••••••†•••••••†••••••••†••••••

Tramping along the corridors he looked for her room. Aliyah Salazar wife of famous drug lord mafia Alejandro Salazar. The grey-eyed beauty. He never heard much about her only that she was a rare beauty and last night he had seen that, felt that in his arms. Beauty wouldn't be even the right word to describe her. She was unreal, a mythical creature from a different world who came to entice the mere mortals of earth.

The sensuous caress of her hips on his crotch and the smooth white bareback which was plastered against his clothed chest heated his entire body, still. And, the citrus smell of her hair reminded him of the gardens of his orphanage. Where he was once happy.

She appeared young, near Isobel's age, and to say she married a man who was twenty-one years older than her. Hunter wasn't naive to believe it was a love match. Either Alejandro kidnapped her or she seduced him for money and power. The sharp-tongue wit of hers told him it was the latter case but the way she feared on hearing her husband's name shaped an entirely different story. Maybe, after trapping the mafia lord she realised how ruthless the business was, and how inhumane these men could be. He wondered what Alejandro did to her last night after he had taken her to him. He looked furious when she arrived late.

Knocking on the door, he waited for her to open the room. Three minutes later, she came out in a low cut spaghetti white sundress. And, the breath left his lungs. Her moon hair was spilt down her hips in waves. The white oval face blazed in the night light and lazy grey eyes glistened. Her warm pale skin was calling him like predator luring it's prey. Lowering his stare, he allowed himself to look at her cleavage and her generous curves which were taunting him. A pure mythical creature. And, only last night she was in his arms.

He always hated a woman's touch except Isobel's. Their touch was always disgusting and made him want to puke, thanks to Margarita and her friends. But somehow this pretty face was forcing her way in the exception list. He liked to blame it on her rare beauty.

"You? What are you doing here? Anyway, I wanted to apologi-"

"Shut it, pretty face. You are asked to stay put in the room and not go anywhere. If you need anything, call me. ¿de acuerdo?" The dusty eyes drew in annoyance.

"I was trying to apologise for the way I reacted but guess what? Your tantrum throwing ass doesn't deserve it." With that, she shut the door with a loud thud on his face.

Damn! She made his blood boil and body heated. Apologise? For what? For seeing his horrible face and getting scared? He didn't believe for a second that this rich, gorgeous goddess was trying to be nice after he shoved her on the wall, checked her panties, and snapped at her. Hunter scoffed.

Tired, he sat on the floor and memorized the whole escape plan. Hunter was sure, this time nothing, nothing would stop him taking Isobel from here. The never ending torture. The sex he was forced to have with disgusting women. The murders he was blackmailed to commit. Everything would stop. Above all, his sister would be safe. She wouldn't have to wear the dresses she didn't want to wear. No one would force her to dance on the poles. And no filthy piece of shit would ever dare to touch her again.

Hunter looked in his phone. Midnight. She didn't ask for anything well except for few bedsheets, he was bewildered for a second as to why she would need them when she already had them in the room. Thinking it off as some luxury rich people liked to indulge, he gave her the sheets and she replied by shutting the door his face loudly, again.

Wanting to check if she was awake, he leaned his ears close to the door. Nothing. It was dead quiet. Was she asleep? Shrugging he sat on the floor again. The weariness was haunting his eyes. This week was hectic and he didn't get an ounce of sleep. Between the oncoming sleep and the tired subconscious, few thoughts lazily floated. Stay put. Alejandro asking for her last night. Not to go out. Watch her. Bedsheets.

Abruptly standing up, he knocked on her door furiously and waited for her response. Nothing. Damn that bitch! Shooting on the doorknob, he entered inside and found a figure huddled in a ball under the sheets. His nostrils flared when lifted the covers. They were the damn fucking pillows!

Heart kicking against the ribcage, he looked around and found the windows closed except the nightlight coming from the thin slits. Stepping closer, he saw those bedsheets - which he gave to her - were tied in a rope and hanging down the outside wall.

He couldn't believe that sneaking bitch just escaped.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

~ S M I L E