Sold To The Boss: A Narcos Romance

Chapter 3

Well fuck me, Rafael thought to himself. His hand had been shaking slightly and he'd barely touched his third drink. All he could see was his beautiful, lovely mother and the way his father would beat her and treat her like an object until he finally shot her in the head like one of his traitors. The mother of his child. He had purchased her at an auction like this, at 10 years his junior, sold into sex slavery by her own family for money. The thought had Rafael almost crushing the whiskey glass in his fist into little glass shards but he reminded himself that he had to remain calm. Rafael took a deep breath through his nose and forced down all thoughts of his family. He turned his attention back to the stages.

When the spotlight hit the third woman he sat forward in the leather booth. He resented the fact that she was the sexiest woman he had ever seen, and that even under these circumstances he couldn't not be attracted to her. A long and curvy figure, her full breasts and ass barely contained in a skintight green dress. Long tresses of caramel brown hair hung down her back against lightly tanned skin and light eyes. She looked half Mexican, half Gringa. He noticed the shaking of her legs which made him curse under his breath. But he also noticed that she didn't look as broken and hopeless as the other women. Her jaw was firmly set, her eyes on fire. She glared right at him without realizing, without knowing what or who she was looking at. She was the one.

"I want her," Rafael slid to the end of the booth and grabbed one of the host's shoulders.

"Yes sir, she is a good one for sure. Maybe the best one. You can place your bid," the host slipped Rafael a sheet of paper but Rafael didn't even look at it.

"There's not going to be a bidding war, entiendes? She's mine. Whatever price."

"Señor, I still need to check with the others —"

"Get me your boss."

Rafael gave him a menacing look and the host nodded hurriedly before scurrying away. Rafael didn't want this to go to a bidding war. She was the most beautiful one up there and he had no doubt there'd be competition. But he didn't want her only for her beauty. She wasn't going to be his in that way. He wanted her for what she could help him accomplish. He couldn't risk not getting her. The stakes were too high. He needed to harness the fire he saw in her and leverage that power toward his plan.

"Señor Rafael, I see you've found a woman you like," an older gentleman with slick gray hair slid into the booth next to Rafael without getting too close. "Since you are a first time buyer and your father was a close friend, I will gib you her, first dibs. But not cheap, she's my best tonight." He winked and licked his thin lips. Rafael imagined grabbing his neck and snapping it in two. Like a thin, cowardly chicken.

"How much?"

"Two million. And that's US dollars, she's American."

"Done. Where do I collect?" The older man had a look of surprise on his face at Rafael's swift purchase and eagerness, but he quickly regained himself.

"Please this way, I will bring her to you." Rafael slid from the booth and followed close behind, Martín bringing up the rear.

"Jefe, the Lotega's should arrive at the hacienda in three days. For your face to face."

"Good. Make sure we get plenty of backup. I want this to be a business meeting, not a fucking ambush."

"Understood." Martín retreated again to the rear, always watching Rafael's back.

They finally stopped at a back room with a garage roller door on one wall. Every detail had been thought through. Total control over these women with no hope for escape. Rafael was far from a saint and he owned more of the Mexican drug trade than any other living person. But he never dealt in sex slavery. Well, not until this evening. The business disgusted him.

"She should be out shortly, Señor. Her name is Isabella, but of course you can rename her whatever you'd like."

Isabella. The name was beautiful, feminine, strong. Isabella. Someone's daughter, someone's sister. He'd get her back to them one day. She wasn't his to keep and he wouldn't call her by anything other than her given name. Maintaining identity was critical in traumatic situations. Rafael wanted to say this but instead he simply nodded, crossing his arms over his chest like he was settling on any other business deal.

"I have the car pulled around, Jefe," Martín glared with distrust at the gray haired man who ran this operation. Martín's own daughter had been taken years ago. Despite his deep connections within the Cartel, no one had been able to track her down and no one had heard from her since. Rafael could see that thought racing behind Martín's eyes, but he never talked about her anymore. He never talked about anything personal. Neither of them did. It was safer that way.